


Where the Ashes Lie

by IvoryCrest



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Flashbacks, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Revenge, Self-Hatred, Slow Build, Trent will die, War, Warmage Bren/Caleb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-01-16 09:36:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18518767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvoryCrest/pseuds/IvoryCrest
Summary: Bren Aldric Ermendrud is a man of high status within the Empire. A warmage of great power, there are only a few whom he still follows orders by. He is the prime example of what a prodigy is set to become. Along with longtime mentor, Trent Ikithon, there is little that disrupts the life of Rexxentrum. That is until an explosion topples the northern tower of the Cerberus Assembly. Not only does the empire lose one of its greatest minds and mage, but also gains a formidable and terrifying enemy.





	1. Splitting Seams

**Author's Note:**

> Thought I'd try something a little different. This has been done many times, but this is my hand at it. Hope you enjoy. This is gonna be a long ride.

He stands by the window for a moment. There's a clear line of sight to the training grounds across the way. Below are lines of students, training in their magic. Some conjure spurts of elemental, some conjuration, and some of a dark origin. Many different types of magic come through the Soltryce Academy. There was a time when he was in their place, hoping to stand where he is now.

The Repository of the Cerberus Assembly has always been a favorite of his. The library contains many tomes of the arcane. It's easy for him to say he's read every single one. Now, it's a comfort to return and reread a familiar archive. Very few people of importance come directly here anymore. More or less, their assistants come to retrieve the books needed. Not him, however, he will always come himself.

The familiar leather-bound books that sat on countless shelves stood untouched. As he ran his hand across each binding, it brought a smile to his face. He took one at random, opening it to the contents. This was a book on the many fiends of the Hells. There's a memory of a time where he would try to draw the fiends in his own hand but failed miserably. He learned soon enough that the only art he was adept it was magic.

"What are you doing?" Astrid came into view in the small sliver where the book at been. She smiled, her brown eyes matching the warmth she emanated. "You should try wandering outside for once. You might get some color on you."

Bren chuckled, closing the book with a simple flex of his hand. "Unlike you, my dear, I would only burn." He replaced the book, cutting their view of each other. "Now, I doubt you came to see me about my time outside."

She moved around the shelf, her expression a little more fixed, but still wearing a warm smile. "The one being sent from Bladegarden is arriving soon. Ikithon wanted you to be the one to question him."

Just as he was about to grab another book, his hand slid down back to his side. He rubbed his jaw with a hand, thinking. "I should head down to the dungeon, _ja_?"

"Last I heard they were about a mile from the center of the city. I've already had your equipment set up."

"Where is Wulf?"

"At the Academy. They wanted him for demonstrations. He'll be back by sundown."

"Ah, then my next question is; would you care to join me?"

She looks taken aback, mock hurt. "My dear, Bren, it pains me that I was not your first choice."

"You were always my choice," he said as he pecked her cheek. "Come, we have an interrogation to begin."

They walk along the stone walls, passing by a few faces without paying them much mind when they bow their heads to them. Astrid walks a step behind Bren, sharing a story of a scenario that happened earlier in the day. It pulls a light laugh from him, making his eyes crinkle.

Following the familiar path, they find themselves reached a dead end. As they approach the wall, Bren grabs a crystal from a pocket and traces the frame of a door into the stone. After a moment, the stone begins to shake, then creates a door. Quietly they step inside, the wall sealing behind them.

The spiraling staircase is dark as they enter. Bren snaps his fingers and the torches hovering above them instantly light.

"I love your magic. There's always a wonderful flare to it," Astrid whispers behind him.

As they walk further and further down, there's a heavy scent of rust. Neither flinches at the scent. They've become accustomed to it.

Passing by cells, there are still a few people down here. Those imprisoned look to both of them with unfiltered fear. Chains rattle as they move closer to the wall and gasps of air are taken. Astrid chuckles behind him, hitting a dagger against the bars just for amusement.

Just as they're about to reach the sectioned off area, the back entrance opens and two shrowded men enter, dragging a blindfolded man behind them. Without so much as a word, they sit the man on the chair, tying his hands and ankles to the back and legs. They leave and Bren begins to inspect what is laid out on the table.

Astrid pulls off the blindfold, revealing a steady glare. He looks to Astrid, looking her over, then stares at the back of Bren, chuckling a little.

"Looks like the empire doesn't have much of a budget for torture. A young, lithe girl, and a skinny man."

Astrid only smiles, leaning against the wall facing him. "Aren't you just prideful. I'll enjoy watching that smirk fall into despair."

"At the hands of your boyfriend here? I think not."

Bren takes a step toward the man, shoving a dagger into his thigh, making sure to miss any main veins. The man clenches down on his teeth, refusing to let out a cry of pain. Their eyes meet for a brief second.

"I am going to ask you to be quiet while I prepare. I will be asking you questions. Do not waste my time with your bravado. In my hands," Bren leans forward, a cold smile taking hold, "everyone breaks."

The man swallows but doesn't say anything. Bren returns to the table. Astrid chuckles, waiting for the show to begin.

The white hue of light vanishes and returns as a red glow. Bren removes his coat and rolls up his sleeves. He grabs a shortsword from the table and drags another chair and sets is before the man. As he sits down, he leans forward.

"Bladegarden seems to have fallen to Xhoras," Bren begins, admiring the shortsword in his hand. "From my understanding, someone of your description appeared to be speaking with a few drow. A while later, an invasion. Any of it ring a bell?"

The man tries his best to steady his breathing. "No... None of that."

Bren watches him as he answers. He watches his expression, his eyes, his body movement. Anything to show that there's something hidden under the fabric of a lie. And he finds it. The stiffening of his arms.

"Look, I would very much like to be upstairs reading a good book. Stop wasting my time." Bren raises the blade to his shoulder, slowly dragging it across his chest. Again, the man bites back the pain, refusing to show any signs of giving in. "Kent, your daughter lives in Felderwin, _ja_ "

Kent immediately falls still. "You fucks!" he yells, trying to break free of his restraints. "Leave my daughter out of this!"

Bren grabbed the dagger that was lodged in his leg and sunk it in deeper. This time there was a cry of pain.

"You see, I torture quite well. Sometimes, the best torture is knowing a loved one is in danger and there's nothing you can do. While I enjoy methodically pulling out each answer with the slow drag of a knife, I prefer other methods. There's always another solution if you know where to look."

"L-look, I may have met with them! I did! But I didn't give them nothing!"

Bren stood and shoved the shortsword into his shoulder. The cry echoed off the walls. "You gave them everything they needed. You met with them. It only took a minute for one of them to memorize your looks, your speech, then copy it to get in. That's how they got in. They used you without you realizing. If you had done what you were asked and killed them on sight, you wouldn't be here and your daughter wouldn't be receiving word that you died in battle."

Kent looked at Bren with disbelief. "No... no no no! I'm alive. I am alive! You fucking monster! Let me go!"

"Astrid, feel free to do what you want. I've got what I needed. He's a traitor and traitors die." He grabbed his coat and began heading toward the stairs.

"Do you not have family?! How would you feel if the ones you loved were in danger?!"

His voice began to drown out as Bren ascended the stairs, but the thought lingered. As he looked forward, his vision suddenly shifted. _Flames, fire everywhere_. He shook his head. _The familiar scent in the air but it's tainted. Smoke and ash_. He caught himself on the wall. Slowly an ache began to come into his head. _Screams. Such loud screams._ Closing his eyes for a moment, he calmed. When he opened them again, the visions stopped but the ache remained.

A blood-curling scream managed to echo up the stairs, reaching Bren. He looked back for a moment, finding that sound familiar. Without another thought, he continued on his way, ignoring the itch in the back of his head.


	2. Restoration & Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trent makes an appearance and tries to make an attempt at counteracting a spell falling apart.
> 
> Bren makes a discovery and looks to wake up, even if it's painful.

The familiar scent of ink and parchment was comforting as he settled at his desk. Everything was in order, nothing out of place. All the books were in alphabetical order, and stacks of papers were separated and set in place. Rarely did he let his work get disheveled. He was always taught to be neat and presentable.

He moves his hand along the underneath of his desk until he found the small, subtle divot. Pushing down on it, a small piece of metal fell into his hand. Bring it to himself, he lifted the necklace. He came across it from one of the guards that would follow Trent. By chance, they had forgotten it. He meant to return it, but something in him told him to keep it. So, it sits here, in a metal box, undetected.

Replacing the chain, he then grabbed a small parchment. Unfolding it, he found the familiar family portrait. His mother to his left, smiling with love. He can still remember her auburn hair and the warmth of her brown eyes. She was always quick to shower him with love and care. To the right, his father sat a more stern expression but held his mother's hand. He served the empire as a soldier. He was never high in the ranks, but enough to feed them. He was always tired when he came home after work, but still had some energy left to chase Bren around.

The faintest of smiles reached him, but it was painful. Such wonderful people of the empire, yet they plotted a resistance. They always said for him to follow the King. How did their opinions shift so quickly? Trent had been right. Trent had been... Screams echoing from the house. Flames engulfed the inside, spilling outside. Why was he here? Why did he set the house on fire? Bren replaced the metal back into the desk, rubbing his temples.

Before he could think further, a knock at the door came. "Come in," he called, not bothering to raise his head.

"Bren, you aren't looking too good," Ikithon entered the room. "Something wrong?"

Raising his head, he met the gaze of his mentor. He could feel the discerning eyes look him over, ready to read him once he begins talking. "Nightmares, I suppose. They come and go. I'm sure it's nothing to worry over."

"Perhaps you should see a cleric. I'm sure they could do something about it," he said, coming to his Brens side. "I could try, but healing is not my expertise."

"No, I suppose it is not. Is there something I can help you with?"

Ikithon becomes quiet for a moment, walking to the bookshelf and browses the titles. "The war with Xhoras is becoming more unstable. I've said we've been working on something to combat them, yes?" Bren nods. "Well, it's currently in the works. In a matter of months, we will begin experiments."

Experiments. The word brought back small snippets of memories. Sitting in the dungeon, his arms strapped to the table. Ikithon standing beside him, slowly pressing crystals into his ski-

"Bren?"

"I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"There was an attack in Zadash a while ago, remember?" Another nod, trying his best to pay attention this time. "A drow soldier had invaded. One of the towers fell and a ruckus fell over the city.

"Did we ever find out why they came?" Bren asked.

Ikithon was quiet for a moment, unsure if he should answer. Despite the calm and stoic face he held, Bren had been taught to see even through the thickest of masks. He knows the answer but doesn't know if he should answer.

"They came to retrieve something. It was from Xhoras. It's... something very valuable to them, but we're looking to use it against them. However, that object is now missing. The drow was found killed in the sewers and the object missing from the guards that were meant to retrieve it."

"Scrying on the object has brought nothing?"

"No, it is either protected by metal, or in another dimension."

"Who could have it?" Bren seemed to ask himself. "There was only one drow known. Who could have taken it? Even the soldiers didn't know of much."

"Yes, and that is a problem," Ikithon said with a sigh. "I'm going to be sending Astrid and Eodwulf to begin their own search.

"You seem apprehensive about me knowing what this object is exactly."

The old man chuckles, half amusement and the other half irritation. "It is... an artifact highly valued by the Kryn Dynasty. From our knowledge, it is used in their rebirth cycle, but there is little information on the entirety of it. However, it can be used for the magic that's been unheard of. Dunamancy will be the key to us winning this war. If things go well, I want you, Bren. I want you to master this magic and lead the charge as the Empire's champion."

Bren stood from his seat and Ikithon met him. "When do these trials begin?"

"Soon enough. We are trying to find a way to capture the essence into a viable form for use," he claps his student on the shoulder. "Trust in me, Bren. Trust in what you see."

' _Trust in me, Bren.'_ The voice of his mentor comes up behind him. His hand firmly grip his shoulders. ' _They are traitors. Trust in what you see. Trust in what I say.'_

Bren holds Ikithon's gaze. The golden eyes that stare back at him with heavy intensity, looking for even the smallest hint of distrust. Just as always practiced. Just as he was taught, Bren smiles. "I would be honored."

Ikithon smiles back. "Wonderful. I must return to the meeting. We merely took a break to defuse the tension. I will be looking forward to you beginning soon."

Bren waited until the door closed and even then, he waited a minimum of 10 minutes before letting his posture relax. He walked to a mirror that hung on the wall. There, he took in his reflection.

His reddish hair was combed back, not a hair out of place and freshly shaved. His coat was of the Empire sporting the bronze and vermillion. The insignia of the Cerberus Assembly was etched carefully into the left shoulder. At a single glance, he was what someone serving the empire should appear like. A primmed, proper, and poised person.

Suddenly a sharp pain ran through his head, nearly making him fall to his knees. He gripped his head, taking a few breathes before the pain subsided. Perhaps seeing a cleric would be best. When he goes to the city tomorrow, he'll stop by a temple. With any luck, this problem will end.

Bren opens the door to exit but stops cold when he hears voices.

"I'm worried about him," Ikithon sighed. "My magic is quite strong, but his mind has gotten stronger over the years. I fear it may be losing luster."

"While I have doubts he would break of it this late, it is a possibility. Perhaps a rewrite is needed," Bren recognized this voice as Oremid Hass. "Perhaps have someone tail him. Send one of his friends to join him on his outing tomorrow. Those two are undoubtfully loyal. Even if it's their friend, they'll alert you to any... abnormalities."

"They'll be leaving tomorrow at dusk, but that should give me enough time to notice or at least get a report. You can always add to a solution, Oremid."

"Anytime, my friend."

Bren gently closes the door again. A thousand thoughts are running through his mind. What magic was Ikithon talking about? Was there some spell cast over him?

With all the knowledge of magic he has now, he knows one thing. If there's something cast over him, a restoration spell will undo it. Though, what will be coming after?

  
__________________________________________

  
Astrid clings to his arm as they walk along the streets of Rexxentrum. He's noticed that she's done her best to pull him away from any temples they pass by. Bren goes along but knows the reason why. She's been ordered to keep him in her sights and away from any magic that could fix him.

It's when they stop for lunch that he notices an opening. Astrid wanders off to the bar, looking for something more interesting to drink. Bren watches as she turns her back to him, haggling down the price of a drink with great ease.

His eyes wander across the way. As the carriages and wagons pass by on the road, he notices a small, stone structure. It's a little out of the way. It's a fine building, but nothing too fancy. Something about it draw him to it.

Stealing a last glance to Astrid, he leaves the table and makes his way through the traffic and to the building. As he gets closer, there's an elderly priestess there. She wears a stark-white robe with gold and silver lining. Looking at the symbol around her neck, it's of the Dawnfather.

The woman looks to him. While she's aged, her eyes are as vibrant as they would've been in her youth. She smiles, stretching out a hand. "You've come to wipe away the darkness in your mind. I can see the clouded look, blocking the truth. Come inside and we can begin."

Despite the small size, it's rather beautiful. It's amazing that a temple so small could be of the Dawnfather. She leads him into the inner chamber, that appears to oppose the size of the outside. In here, it's large. The roof is there, but a number of trees and plants grow with little effort. There's a sourceless light, feeling as if the sun were there.

"Lie here," she says, lowering herself to her knees. He follows her instruction, lying on a small patch of grass. "I must warn you that this will uncover anything that was hidden. Whether it was good or bad, I cannot say. The spell will end instantly, but the damage could be severe."

"That is... all right. I need to know what happened. I need to know what was placed on me."

She nods and leans over him, muttering to herself as she prays. Bren tries to watch, but there's a force that brings his eyes to a close. He feels warmth spread over his boy, then focusing on his head. It's nice at first, like being cradled with a pleasant warmth. It doesn't last long until the pain starts.

_He walks down the stairs, hearing their voices. As he's about to speak he hears his mother, "Everything will begin soon. Our attack is detailed out. This will make a heavy blow against the Empire."_

_"If everything goes as planned, we'll be one step closer," his father adds. "The end of an empire will soon be upon us."_

_He can't move. How could his parents be speaking this? How could they be traitors? They raised him to love the empire. Why were they saying these things?_

The vision breaks off and comes back. _Flames, flames everywhere. It's coming from his own hand. As Ikithon had said, traitors should burn. All burn._ Again it breaks, but it hurts more this time. _Hands on his shoulders, squeezing. Magic flows into his mind. He tries to fight but he can't. "It's fine, Bren. They betrayed the Empire. They betrayed you. This was the only outcome."_

Suddenly he sits up, gasping for air, grasping his head in his hands. He can feel the tears streaming down his face, but he can't calm down. For all his training in keeping calm, his self-control was gone right now. Everything he's been living for the past 18 years has been false; a lie fed to him without him realizing.

When he finally calms a little, he looks to the priestess. She looks exhausted, but still smiles at him. "I am sorry it is so painful. Please, stay as long as you like."

She leaves him. The silence of the chamber sinks in on him. It takes time, but he gets his breathing under control. Casting a quick prestidigitation spell, he appears unchanged, but to continue as he was, he'll have to act. Now that he's awake, this is dangerous.

After what he knows to be half an hour, he leaves the temple. Looking back to where he was with Astrid, he finds her seemingly questioning people.

With any luck, she doesn't know what he just did. With any luck, Ikithon won't notice the change. With any luck, he can get the hell out of Rexxentrum before any of them do.


	3. Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oremid is just a scary person with an inviting smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sick so I had nothing better to do than get another chapter in. Hope y'all enjoy. <3

He stands off to the side, his back pressed firmly against the wall. A group of 16 students pairs off. A few prepare a stance familiar to Bren. The sight of their magic preparing to be expelled. Others ready daggers, swords, or ranged weapons.

They begin their sparring. Blades cling together, creating small sparks as they meet. Arrows whine through the air as they look to reach a mark. Magic adds vibrant color, setting something ablaze or shifting earth. It brings back memories of earlier years. Astrid, Wulf, and he were subject to this training. Sometimes it would last throughout the day, leaving them drained and at times, nearly dead. Looking back now, it should've rung some kind of alarm.

All these students typically come from high social families. The Assembly needs funding and this is one of its most prominent collectors. Along with an entrance fee, there's tuition that is collected every year. Unless you had connections, it was near impossible to gain access. His own parents thought it was a gift from the gods that Bren had been given the chance to attend. How happy they were. How happy the small town was that three of their own would become something more than a farmhand or guard.

"No! You have to put energy into it. Let the magic flow from your core and expend from your arm," the voice of an old teacher broke him from his thoughts. He scanned the area, find a former professor of his. Her blonde hair was being taken by the early greying. Her hazel eyes were still vibrant, however. The magic still flowed in her as it did in her early years. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Bren was waved over.

He thought to take a step but questioned himself for a moment. Shaking it away, he walked over, drawing the eyes of the other students. They looked at him with awe, some irritation, and a few with fear.

Three of the students had been set before him, two girls and one boy. They all had what looked to be singe marks from casting wrong. How many times had he done that himself?

"Professor Hilen, how many I help?" Bren slipped into a fixed voice.

"Bren, my dear boy. It's wonderful to see you," the aging human woman smiled at him with genuine care. He couldn't help but return the smile, losing a little stiffness in his shoulders. "If you would, please demonstrate a spell for these three. Perhaps an example might be best."

His eyes scanned the area, finding a pile of old and discarded training dummies in the distance. "A demonstration? That can be arranged." He looks to the students. "Watch carefully."

He takes several steps away. "The stance you take when casting is a personal preference and depends on the scenario. As you being the spell, you have to feel the confidence in yourself, lest the spell falls apart or miss your mark altogether. As you take your target into view, you begin the incantation." Bren takes the slower process of muttering the incantation. His eyes begin to glow a vibrant blue. The sigil appears before him in a small form. "When you feel ready, you let it flow from inside you." With a simple gesture, a small streak leaves his hand, landing near the pile. A few seconds later, there's an explosion that shakes the area as a fireball destroys the entirety of the dummies. "Magic is a weapon, a means of power, but it is an extension of yourself. It is alive within your veins. A spell allows it to breathe. How you cast depends on whether it takes that breath or chokes."

"Thank you, Bren. That was excellent. Master Ikithon trained you so well," she said as she brushes a hand on his shoulder.

He looks to her and feels the soft smile he'd given to her waver just a little. "He did. He taught me so much."

"Will you be staying longer to watch?"

"Ah, _nein_. I must return. There is some research I am looking into. With it, I hope to solve some problems."

She cups his face, still smiling. "Well, you must finish this research. I know how much it means to you when you study. Come by again. I miss your presence. Besides, it would help to have someone show these students what true mastery is."

He bids the professor goodbye and leaves the grounds and begins to make his way to the Repository.

________________________________________

Methodically, he places the silver wire along the entrance of the hall to his study. He was beginning to be rather paranoid. The wire will alert him to anyone coming to his door. He'll be prepared if he should need to hide something.

He looks to the books sprawled on his desk — their usual books on the magic of memory. Reading along with the pages, he finds a spell capable of modifying a memory. He knew of it, but didn't want to believe that was cast on him. However, it explains perfectly why he would've accepted Ikithon's words without thought. It tells why he would've plainly killed his parents without so much of a second thought.

If Ikithon had done something like this to him, could Astrid and Wulf be under the same guise? Could they be ignorant or perhaps they know. If only he thought to ask sooner. They've already left the city. He didn't even go see them off.

Astrid was meant to be watching him yesterday. What did she report back to Ikithon? Did she tell him of the time she lost sight? Did she tell of how he had been distant and uncomfortable with her on the walk back? What does he know?

If his mentor didn't think twice about changing his memory to get him to kill those dear to him, what else has the man done? Does the entire Assembly know of his deeds? Would they care? Oremid already knows of his mind corruption. How many of Ikithon's students have been sent by Oremid?

He doesn't get to finish that set of thoughts. Instead, he's alerted by the wire as it sends a small tickle to his head. He sets the books away, clearing his desk as it should be. He stops by the mirror, looking at his reflection again.

Unlike yesterday, the man that stared back looked entirely different. His hair was a little bit of a mess and his shirt underneath his coat was a bit wrinkled. There were signs of unrest from the bags under his eyes. There was a little bit of fuzz growing from his jaw. He looked shaken, changed. To whoever walks in, Bren hopes he can fool them.

A light knocks sounds at the door; it shakes Bren from his moment of distress. He fixes himself the best he can, casting prestidigitation. "Come in," he said as he moved to the bookshelves, pretending to have been messing with them.

"It's good that I caught you before I returned to Zadash," Oremid's voice sends a chill down his spine. "Trent had said something about you having some trouble with your head. I'm not much of a cleric, but I do know a few things of the mind. I was wondering if you would let me... inspect you."

"Thank you, Oremid, but it has stopped bothering me," he said in a half-truth.

"Humor me, Mr. Ermendrud."

Bren gripped the shelf before turning to face the man. He found the familiar stocky, short human. His black eyes stare back at him with intent and none of it good. He smiles, but his dull, grey teeth only set his worry more. There is no kindness in that smile. He always seemed so welcoming before, but now all Bren feels is fear.

He sits in a chair, watching as Oremid steps behind him, placing his hands on either side of his head. Almost instantly, it's hard to focus, as if something is trying to pull the covers over his eyes. His brain feels fuzzy, numb almost. He tries to focus on his hands, on his shoes; anything to help him get out of whatever was being done.

"Now, Bren, listen to me carefully," It's hard to focus on anything but the voice speaking. It feels like an echo and it's the only sound. "Trust in the Assembly. Trust in Ikithon. He is the one to bring about a new age. Anything you thought to believe about him being wrong, being evil is untrue. Everything he has done is for the sake of the Empire. Everything you will do is for the Empire. Never question your orders."

Bren is fighting with each word, each syllable. His head is hurting. It feels like it's splitting, but he doesn't move, he doesn't scream. It's because he can't right now. He hears the voice talking, but he struggles to keep it from taking hold.

Oremid's hands move away from his head and Bren feels better. He looks ahead, finding the mirror. The Archmage still stands behind him, that same smile spread across his face as he waits for a response.

Bren takes a breath, still feeling the numbness in his head. "I'm sorry, Headmaster Oremid, but... what were we speaking of? I can't quite recall."

The Headmaster's eyes soften, patting Bren on the shoulder. "Do not worry, it's all right now. You're back with us Bren. Retire early for the day. You'll feel better."

"You're... right. That is a good idea," Bren answered, standing from the chair. "Are you staying in Rexxentrum longer?"

"No, I must return to Zadash. I've students to mold. With any luck, they'll turn out just like you," he said as he walked out the door.

Alone in the room, he waits 5 minutes. He remains 10, 15, 40, an hour. He takes a breath, unsure if he'd been breathing that entire times. He has the memory in his head. It tried to overwrite everything, but he fought it. He fought and won. The smile he gives himself is small but ever so shaky.

He goes to his desk, pulling out the small metal box from hiding. He slips the amulet on and takes the portrait into his pocket. It's 7:32. Ikithon and the rest of the Assembly are enjoying dinner. The professors have retired to their chambers. The students are in their dorms. His room is empty, save himself. The tower will be empty by eight. Tonight, the tower falls, as does Bren Aldric Ermendrud.


	4. Tumbling Towers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a thunderstorm here and I couldn't be happier. Enjoy the chapter. Have a good day or night. <3

He's careful in how he procures the black powder. It takes waiting for the usual guards of the supply room to investigate when the sight of a rabid dog had been noticed. It was a mere minor illusion that the two failed to see. Using his servant, he manages to carry just enough to fill several bags to be placed about his study and room. The powder is used for those skilled in the firearms recently procured from Hupperdook. Lately, there have been talks of using them in other means of weaponry. He knows what it is capable of doing. Just enough of a spark and this will blow anything and everything.

Locking the door to his study, he begins to spread the powder about, making sure to cover the majority of his research. The knowledge he had yet to share will never be known to them and his to keep. He'd rather see it burn than letting them use it.

He takes a bag from the ground, gathering components for his spells and transcribing materials. It's too bad he hadn't stocked up before this, but there's no use in thinking about that now.

He stops by his bed and pulls a chest from underneath. Unlocking it, he finds the familiar leather-bound books. Running his hand over the covers, they're old and somewhat cracked, but nothing a little polish couldn't help. He smiles to himself, placing the books into his holsters, opposite to his spellbook.

It feels strange to remove his coat. The fabric was nice and warm. It fit him well, but he couldn't keep it. It was  _theirs,_ and he would not keep something so blatantly obvious. With a toss, it falls against some gathered powder, ready to burn.

When he feels ready, he takes a moment. He looks at his study, memories flooding back. He received the room after his graduation. It was a gift from Ikithon and the Assembly. Here he was to study magic and history. If he were required for interrogation, Astrid or Wulf would call for him. Sometimes, brutality wasn't necessary. Sometimes, a few well-said words or threats would be enough. If that failed, no one likes burns.

He spent so much time here that it seems odd to leave. Abandoning the only thing he's known for years is unsettling. Even so, if he remains, the likelihood of him being found is higher. If there's distance, at least he has a chance. He can take some time to recover himself if that's even possible.

If he's honest with himself, he feels terrible for what happened to those people, but not near enough as he should. The one he regrets the most is his parents. If he had seen through Ikithon's trick, if he had been able to resist the magic, maybe things would've been different. Then again, his mentor was never one to let things be. Happiness wasn't in his future then. It isn't now. Now, he must look to survive, to escape.

He hears the clock tower's chime sing as the next hour comes. As it sounds, He simple lights a piece of wood on the fire. He tosses it into the air and immediately casts Dimension Door. The deep blue doorway appears before him, and he quickly steps through. With a force of the wind, he stumbles in the alleyway between two buildings.

Before he can get his bearings, the ground violently shakes as an explosion creates a dissonant sound. Looking back, he watches as a hole had appeared on the side of the tower. Flames lick around the stone exterior as the inside burns away. Those in the streets scream and flee. Though, the sounds are drowned out to Bren. He feels himself wanting to fall into memories as they claw at his mind, but he shrugs it off.

He continues to watch as four figures hover near the top of the tower. Reality comes back to Bren. He turns on his heel and begins to move toward a safer area swiftly. He needed space right now. To cast the next spell, he needs to be far away from them.

As he reaches the outer area of the market district, the guards are on high alert. Crownguards begin to sweep the area, looking in every nook and cranny. Bren blends into a group of civilians with a disguise, managing to avoid the majority of them. He happens to overhear a conversation as he moves by.

"Does anyone have an idea of who attacked the tower? Could it be the Kryn?"

"Nah, the Kryn couldn't come this far. It had to be from the inside. Someone must've been marking them."

"I heard one of their warmages went missin'. It was that real charming fuck that followed Ikithon. Could've been him."

The other chuckles. "Maybe the mage went rogue. If he did, gods help that poor bastard. Then again, maybe he's dead or captured. Who knows?"

The soldiers continue on their way, barely paying any mind to Bren. There are three options that they've come up with for his disappearance — death, desertion, or captive. The last two seem more believable. They're far too smart to believe he's dead. The only problem they have now is how to find him.

He moves passed the market district, entering the lower end of Rexxentrum. It's incredible the stark difference between the three zones. The outer is for the lower income and more criminals. There's guard presence, but not as much as needed. The middle district is more of the merchants and factories. They create more revenue than the other two. The central district is for nobles. Their large housing and places of work are more extravagant in comparison to the others. At the center is the Cerberus Assembly and the Academy. They are the crowned jewels of the city, sending awe through visitors and dignitaries alike.

Rexxentrum is meant to be the pinnacle of society. It is the city of knowledge, wealth, and power. Even so, it struggles to hold that view. Stay long enough, and the luster falls reasonably quick.

When he feels the cover of night and distance are enough, he falls back into an alley. Letting himself catch his bearings, he pulled out a scroll. It was a gift from the leader of the Assembly. When he received it, he knew he would have to wait to use it. Even now, he's unsure if the spell will take, but he's out of options. He needs to leave the city now.

Unrolling the parchment, he looked over the wording. He had hoped to copy this spell soon. He sighs, " _Mist_." He looks around once more, then begins muttering the incantation.

When he finishes, there's nothing, and he believes to have failed, but then he feels pulled. His vision blurs, and his head spins. His feet hit solid ground, and he falls to his knees. He finds himself in Berleben, just bordering the Labenda Swamps. He knew of this place from an earlier journey with his friends, his old friends.

It's a bit of a shithole, but it'll do. The distance is enough. For now, he can get a room and food with what money he has. Hopefully, he can acquire some means of travel. As of now, as far as he's concerned, he is an enemy of the Empire.


	5. Arrival & Unrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bren finally makes it to Zadash and meet two fellows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter this time, as will the next few possibly.   
> P.S. If anyone knows how to get rid of a stubborn cold that nothing seems to help, feel free to tell me. I'm at my wits' end.

He leaves a few hours before noon. He gathers food provisions, a spare change of clothes, and buys two healing potions. A horse would help with travel, but it would cost too much. He could gain transportation on a wagon passing through, but it might bring more trouble than good. There will be other people. Until it's decided what he's doing, it's best to interact as little as possible. Walking will have to do.

The open road feels vast right now. Normally, Bren would accompany someone from the Assembly to other cities and towns, but magic was typically used. Yesterday was the first he's managed to teleport himself. Of course, it was a stroke of luck that it worked. If it hadn't, there wasn't much of a second plan.

Zadash is roughly 70 miles away. At an average pace, it should take a good 2-3 days of travel, as long as nothing interferes. Though, what's the plan when he gets there? What is his plan?

He's free, for the moment, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have to look over his shoulder. They'll be searching high and low until other matters take importance. Until then, he'll have to lie low.

Oremid is in Zadash, but it's a good size of a city. Avoiding the Hall of Erudition is the best idea. Settling into a tavern seems to be the first thing to do. He'll need to gather knowledge of the area. It's always good to know the history of the city.

The hours' tick by in his head with exact precision. When eight hours pass, his legs, and his feet are sore. He moved off the road and settles into an area for the night. He puts up the silver wire as security around a perimeter. As he completes his round, he begins going in a circle and pulls out a single bead. When he finishes the spell, a dome of faint green-ish energy rises. He gathers a bundle of firewood and creates a fire.

As he waits for his food to heat, He looks at his surroundings. The setting sun gives just enough light to watch the growing grass bend to the wind's will. A few scattered trees shake. Deer and small animals run across the field, making sure to avoid the strange dome.

The sky darkens, and fireflies begin to emerge. Their faint glowing bulbs give off a beautiful glow. First, their's one, two, three, then dozens appear, flittering in the sky. Bren lies back, staring at them against the night sky. It almost seemed like they were dancing.

In his childhood, he would often run up the hills and wait for the night to fall. When the last light fell, the fireflies would come out in the hundreds, painting the fields in a faint glow. It was always a sight to behold. He would watch them for hours until he fell asleep. When he woke, he would wake in his room, covers over him. He would always catch the tail-end of his father closing the door.

His chest aches at the memory. His parents have been gone for over a decade now, and it's his fault. He wasn't strong enough for smart enough to stop it. If there were some way to revert it, if there were some way to alter time, he would.

He sits up, staring at the small fire. There were whispers of those looking into time. Those that tried met with a terrible end. If he found the right books, the proper names, he could learn something. Even if it ends with a failed attempt and his death, it would at least feel as if he tried to correct that wrong. Even if his life amounts to nothing but lies and bullshit, he could at least attempt to change that.

Rest doesn't come easy that night. If it isn't nightmares waking him, or the pure feeling of worry of someone watching, it's the negative thought left him how he missed the ignorance.

Come morning; he eats breakfast and heads on his way. It's rather uneventful. A few wagons pass by him. Two stop and ask if he wants a ride, but he turns them down. He watches as they disappear into the distance.

He rubs his face, feeling the early signs of a beard. Maybe it's best to grow it out. It'll change his appearance a little. It'll give him a more disheveled look. It'll be just a little harder to recognize him at a glance.

The day comes just as fast as it began. Just as Bren was starting to make his camp, he hears the sound of a twig snap followed by a hushed, "Shit." He looks back and finds a group of seven people slowly approaching.

They wore scarves around their faces, hiding the majority of their features. One of them stepped forward a little more, holding a crossbow. The young man looks a little to be in his 20s maybe. His blonde hair is unkempt and looks overall a mess.

"All right, you know the drill — seven of us and one of you. Drop your money and wares, and we'll leave you breathing," the man says with a somewhat uneven voice.

Bren looks them each over. "Look, I have been walking for two days now. I am not in the mood to play nice with thieves."

The ready their weapons. "Well, doesn't look like you have an option." A bolt leaves his weapon, sinking into Bren's shoulder.

He leans into the pain, barely letting any sound become audible. He only shakes his head. "Fine, but I don't feel like wasting my time playing." He reaches into his coat and pulls out a bit of bat shit and sulfur. As he slaps it together, he slides his hands apart and throws a small streak toward them. It's quiet. Then a massive explosion rocks the area. They're all enveloped in a ball of fire; their screams cut short.

His eyes find the charred bodies. They're black and unmoving. He finds himself watching the remaining flames dance around them.

_Flames eating into the wood, a wall collapses in. He's dragged away by a rough hand, but his eyes never leave the cottage. The screams died out some time ago, but they echo in his head like haunting phantoms. He can still feel the heat of the fire threaten to turn on him._

When he snaps back to reality, he sees the fire had died out. Their's a heavy scent of smoke and burned flesh. Looks like he won't be sleeping here tonight. Another hour or two of distance should be enough. He'll rest then.

__________________________________

The gates of Zadash are welcoming, but the spires seem to loom over him. The triangular shape of the city walls leaves a single point of entry. Four crownsguard stands on either side of the portcullis.

Inside, he finds the standard city buildings; some shops, housing, and guard barracks. Parts were rundown while others looked average. There was a mixer of people walking along the streets. There were humans, halflings, half-elves, and gnomes. It was a petri-dish of multiple cultures.

It was always an interest in the way that different people of different races came together and lived in such harmony. Social sciences are never really appreciated.

As his mind drifts back to the task at hand, he sees what looks to be an inn. Glancing at the sign, it read: _The Leaky Tap_. An unusual name, but it'll do. With the traveling he's done in a short amount of time, an actual bed would be beautiful. Even just a room with a door to lock would do.

Inside it was somewhat regular but large. The high raftered ceiling made the main room seem much more spacious. It held roughly a dozen tables, seven of which are taken. Four people sat at the bar and a band of musicians played in the back, right corner.

He approached the bar, gaining the attention of a plump, white dragonborn. "Well, don't you look like hell. Name's Wessek. Welcome to the Leaky Tap. Need a drink, food, or a room?"

"All three," he answered with a sigh. "I'll rent the room for a week."

"We'll make it a tab. What's the name to be put on it?"

"Widogast," he spat out. The name slipped out with ease. It felt right. All he needed now was the first name.

He took his time at the bar, eating his meal and drinking the watered-down ale. It was nothing compared to what he used to have. He used to three-course meals, fine wine, and a comfortable place to sleep. Though, the price was more than he realized.

As he mulled over his thoughts, a crash from the left caught his attention. Wessek groaned when he looked in the same direction. "You dumbass! Who's gonna pay for that?"

Bren looked in the same direction, finding a group of seven. They were all of the different races. There's a human, a half-orc, a firbolg, two tieflings, a large pale woman, and what appeared to be a halfing, but as he peered closer, the skin was green, and the porcelain mask did little to hide from his keen eyes.

The purple tiefling piped up, revealing a vibrant display of color. Their coat was a deep maroon, but multiple embroidered images sprayed across it. Jewelry jingled from his horns. His eyes were pure red, making it just a little hard to read. His horns curved ever so perfectly. There were faint scars across his chest. It was curious to see that — what a loud person.

"Wessek, dear," he said with a chuckle. "We keep this place running. Of course, we'll pay for the damages."

"Keep it down. I've enough problems without watching over your asses," Wessek shook his head, moving down to the other side of the bar to tend to another customer.

Bren had been staring too long because the purple devil looked to him and smiled. He watched as a pointed tail slithered out from behind him, mimicking the curiosity of a cat. He turned back away, surprised to find Wessek returned to him, refilling his tankard.

"Ah, Wessek, do you know of any shops here that are of the... arcane nature?" he's asking, but doubts he'll get an answer he wants. Magic shops are rare after all.

The dragonborn thinks for a moment but stops when someone takes the seat next to Bren. Bren, feels the presence and regrets looking.

"If it's magic you're looking for, I can point you in the direction of a nice shop in the Pentamarket," the tiefling with red eyes said as he leaned far too close for Bren's comfort. "I could also tell you a fortune. You look like a man with intent, and I would love to see a possible future you hold. What kind of destiny do you have, dear?"

The lightly accented voice is a little odd to Bren's ear. With the tiefling closer, he can smell the scent of lavender. He sees the signs of peacock feathers drifting down the neck in the shoulder.

This man wants information. He wants to peak into Bren's mind. That's how most people like him work. Ask a few questions, get a few answers, then start from there. He knows because that's how he trained. All the charisma can get even the tightest of lips to move.

"I will happily have the name of the shop but pass on the fortune. I... do not believe in such things," Bren answers as he takes a drink. "Things like fate or destiny; it's all bullshit."

The smile doesn't leave the devilish man. He appears more interested. "Mollymauk Tealeaf. Molly to my friends. I'd love to be friends so I can share the name of this shop, but I need a name first."

_Ah, so he's settling for a name,_ Bren thinks to himself. Against himself, he smirks a little. "Widogast, Caleb Widogast."

Bren watches the red eyes, waiting to see if he catches the lie, but there's nothing. For as big as he talks, he's not very perceptive. Though, in his defense, the average person isn't one for good deception.

"So, Mr. Mollymauk, may I know the name?"

"The Invulnerable Vagrant, in the Pentamarket. There's a wonder firbolg by the name of Pumat Sol there. He'll take care of you."

"Thank you for sharing."

"Feel like company? My friends and I are wonderful hosts. We share stories. You look like a man that knows a few."

Bren stood from the stool, dowing the last of his ale. "If you want a story, might I recommend a book?"

The tiefling faulters. "Reading's... not my strong suit."

"That's too bad. I enjoy a good book."

"Molly, I hope you're not botherin' him too much," the half-orc approached. His southern drawl sounded inviting. "Sorry about him. He can be very up front."

"I can see," Bren said, feeling his patience becoming thin. "If you'll both excuse me, I need to pass out. Before either of them can say anything, he turns and heads upstairs.

Mollymauk watched the man disappear out of the corner of his eye before getting a good slap across the back of his head. "Ow! What the fuck, Fjord?"

The half-orc shakes his head in disappointment. "Way to be subtle, Molly. The man looks like he hasn't slept in a while and you're bothering him."

"Hey, everyone was curious. I just had the guts to see what the stranger was about. Besides, he stared at me first."

"Everyone stares at you. You're like a damn rainbow," Fjord calls back as he returns to the table.

Mollymauk chuckles, following after him. "Everyone loves a rainbow."

__________________________________

Bren locks the door behind, setting the silver wire against the door. He throws his coat on the back of a chair, and carefully takes off his book holsters, setting them neatly on the table. He pulls off his boots, setting them at the end of the bed. He sits on the bed.

He takes a breath. He's in Zadash, miles away from Rexxentrum. He's miles away from Ikithon. He's miles away from the Assembly. They don't know where he is. They can't locate him with a spell. He took down the tower. He burned his research. His friends have no idea. Everything turned out most favorably.

His body aches from that night. His body aches from travel. Since the spell was removed from him, the nightmares have gotten worse. Every night he's subject to memories. It's punishment. It's a punishment he deserves. A replay of every bad he's done is fitting. Never will he gain clemency.

A moment passes, and he feels something trailing down his face. Something reaches his lips, and it's salty. They were tears. He's crying, but it feels empty. He was always taught to ignore the emotion. Keep a straight expression and never waver. Now, now he's breaking. He can feel the sturdy foundation he had begin to crumble.

His breathing becomes broken, shallow. His throat tightens. A weak sob leaves him. _What have I done?! What have I done?!_ He thinks. _I'm a monster. I murdered them. I murdered the parents that loved me so dearly! They are not traitors. I am._ He should be dead. He should be in chains. He's not a good person.

The room darkens as the hours' pass. His sobs ceased, and sits there, quiet and unmoving. A dead expression overtakes him with ease. He stays like that for hours into the night, until some mercy befalls him and he passes out.


	6. Summons & Converse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this chapter 3 times. I hope you guys enjoy it. <3

The establishment was warm and inviting. Floating lanterns lit the room. Inside each lantern was a candle, and the flame flickers ever so slightly as if the air were blowing around it. Many shelves lined the walls. Most were books or jars of varying sizes. The main desk sat near the back wall. Next to that was a glass case, items sitting in view.

Like Mollymauk had said, there was a firbolg standing behind the desk. He appeared a good 7ft. While his hair atop his head was short, bushy and brown, the fur on his body was a fine greyish-brown. The nose was that of a cow. His robes were of exceptional make in colors of green and gold.

It was fascinating that there had been three of the same man, but an apparent prime. A simulacrum as they explained. It clicked in his mind that this Pumat Sol was linked to the Assembly. When he mentioned Oremid, it only cemented.

He bought the necessary items; 300 gold worth of ink and paper for his transcribing, and another 60 for some fine incense. It's only dawned on him now how expensive it is to be a wizard. He'll need to find some way to refill his gold.

Returning to the inn, he found the morning rush had settled. It was calm before lunch. By then, he'll be in his room, scribing a spell he's been needing to add. Hopefully, he'll have what he's after. It'll ease his mind a little.

He was well on his way until he felt a tap on his shoulder. Every nerve in his body was telling him to keep going, but curiosity got the better of him. Turning back, he found the half-orc man from before. The green man put on a happy smile.

"Hi, again. We met yesterday, but I don't believe I got your name. Mine's Fjord," he extended his hand.

It took only a second for Bren to look him over before accepting his hand. "Caleb Widogast," he answered. "Something I might help you with, Fjord?"

"I was hoping to buy you a drink, as an apology for Molly's behavior yesterday evenin'."

Bren thought, this man is trying to be nice, but at what end? There's some intent that isn't surfacing.

"All right, I'll take that drink, but allow me to return these to my room."

"I'll be at the bar," Fjord called as Bren walked away.

He set the paper and ink on the table, sighing. The incense rested on the chair, waiting patiently. What he wants will have to wait.

Bren returns to the lower floor, finding the half-orc sitting at the bar, ordering. With a careful eye, Bren scans the room. He finds a familiar group in the corner table this time. The dark-skinned woman in blue was sitting with her chair tilted back. The goblin was nursing a flask rather heavily. Lastly, there was the colorful explosion of what was Mollymauk, who was a table away, telling a fortune. The rest must be out.

As he sits, it takes everything in him not to sit prim and proper. Instead, he slumps a little, much to his back's dismay. Fjord slides him a tankard before taking a drink of his own.

"Haven't seen you around these parts," Fjord began. "Your accent must be from somewhere north, right? What was it? Zemnian?"

"You are correct," Bren answered. "I come from the north. A town just a ways away from the capital."

"Well, I'm from the south, the Menagerie Coast. Port Damali is where I call home. Ever see the ocean?"

" _Nein_ , I have not. I have been rather... secluded I suppose. My mind has been... on a single track for some time now. I've only just broken from that."

"Trapped in your mind, huh," Fjord chuckled.

"You have no idea, _mein Freund_."

Bren watched as something crossed Fjord's mind. It seemed like a sudden realization. "Um... since you lived up north, have you heard of the Soltryce Academy? I was lookin' to head up there at some point."

It's the second time today something of the Assembly has crossed him. He got this far away, yet it always comes at a topic. How ironic.

"Yes, I know of it. A place where magic can be studied and practiced. It's a difficult place to enter. Unless you know the right people or have the right amount of coin, it's near impossible to enter."

"You said 'near impossible.' There another option other than those two?"

A sigh left Bren. The half-orc is rather persistent. He'll exhaust every end he can. "You could... be seen as an exception. Depending on if you show high promise, you could be accepted. The last time it happened was many years ago."

"I take it you knew someone that was an exception."

"Two from my hometown were plucked by them."

"Do you still communicate?"

Bren's brow creased as the thought crossed his mind. "No." It's not a lie, and the half-orc doesn't seem to read into it.

The mood seems to shift with the last sentence. What was a simple, light conversation now felt weighted. Neither knew what to add and so the silence began to loom.

It only occurred to Bren now, but he didn't get to see Edowulf the days before he and Astrid left. He didn't send them off as they began their search. He couldn't. Of everyone there, they would've been the ones to out him. With enough time, they could see behind his eyes, behind the smile he carefully placed. They would've been his downfall. For as much as he loved them, he couldn't let them ruin it all.

"Thank you for the drink, Fjord, but I have things to do," he downed the last of his drink, wanting to find some peace of solitude.

"Of course. Oh, wait. If you've a mind, join our little group sometimes. We're a bit lively, but you'll never be bored."

Bren glanced at the table; the other three had reappeared over time. "I will think about it heavily," he answered, leaving for the stairs.

Entering his room, he locked the door and set the wire. Moving the table aside, he made enough room on the floor to begin.

The casting is long an taxing, but the incense burns in a sudden flame and a purple puff of smoke appears in its place. The creature shakes itself, then steps forward, stretching its limbs as it becomes accustomed to the form. The Bengal cast looks up the human before it. Their eyes lock, and a link is formed.

Bren extends his hand and the cat, rubs his hand into the palm, purring. With a single leap, the cat moves up the arm and rests on his shoulders, seeming pleased. It brings a smile to Bren that feels rights.

"You will be the best cat, Frumpkin."

________________________________

His hands move across the page with steady speed. Over the next few hours, his supplies have diminished. If only he'd restocked before he left, he wouldn't be in this predicament now.

Frumpkin lays across his shoulders, purring and curling around him now and then. Mindlessly, Bren runs his fingers through the fey creatures hair, finding comfort. It feels familiar, like a distant memory.

They would all sit before the hearth, taking in what warmth they could gather in the Zemnian nights. His parents would be sitting in chairs behind him while he laid on the rug, played with his cat. The scent of brewing stew and freshly baked bread was such a comfort. It brought the end of the day that would lead into the next dawn.

Looking down at the page he finished, he found the ink had disappeared entirely. He would need money soon. With a city this big, he should be able to find something to do. A steady flow of coin does wonders for one.

As he looks up, he realizes that the room is dark, save the candle he has for light. Though, the sounds from downstairs have only just begun. There's singing, yelling, and laughing. All the sounds of a regular tavern are there. In its way, it makes a nice ambiance.

Days and nights were either spent researching, quiet dinners with the Assembly at Ikithon's behest or managing to catch his friends. Though, it was all somewhat civil. There was nothing loud, not even with his friends. Act a certain way, keep your posture in check, never lower yourself for others. How many rules were etched into him? For all the power he had, he never had his freedom.

A knock at the door shakes his thoughts away. He looks at the door but doesn't move. The knock comes again, followed by, "Mr. Caleb! I know you're awake there's candlelight I can see from the door." Mollymauk's voice is jovial. He has no way of escaping, does he? "Come downstairs and drink. Sitting in a room by yourself is much too dreary."

"Mr. Mollymauk, I have resigned myself to rest early tonight," Bren begins as he cleans up the table. Frumpkin meows as he's moved, but doesn't leave his shoulders. "I've just finished some work."

"Wonderful! A good drink after work is the best thing! Come on and open the door!"

"I've no intention of leaving this room."

There's a beat of silence. "Okay."

Bren hears footsteps leave. He sighs with relief and shrugs off his coat. He takes off his holsters, setting them neatly on the nightstand. He feels the stiffness in his shoulders and back. Sitting in place for hours does nothing to help the body.

Just as he's about to shuck off his boots, a knock comes at the door again. "Mollym-"

"You said you wouldn't leave the room, so I just brought up some drink here. Let me in?"

Bren let his face fall into his hand as he huffed a sigh. Slowly he rose from the bed, the creaking wood outing him. The alarm vanished as he stepped through, sending a small tingle to the back of his head. Unlocked the door, he pulled it open.

Standing against the wall, he found one Mollymauk Tealeaf with a grin, holding drinks. "Nice to see you again, dear. Ah, you have a friend! Hello there." He raised a hand, running his nails through Frumpkin's fur. I'm Molly; what's your name?"

Despite himself, Bren stepped aside, letting Mollymauk in. "His name is Frumpkin. You may come in before I change my mind."

The tiefling didn't skip a beat as he walked in, settling himself on the bed. He sniffed the air for a moment before asking, "Was something burning in here? There's a scent of smoke."

Bren took the tankard Mollymauk offered, sitting at the table. He lifted Frumpkin off his shoulders and set him on the table. "It is the product of summoning this one."

"Summon? Like wizardy stuff?"

That earned a chuckle. " _Ja_ , wizardy stuff. He is what you call a familiar. He is a creature of the Feywild, another plane of existence."

"So, is he like a real cat?"

"Of course he's real. He has different properties, and I can call him to my side when I need him."

"How?"

Frumpkin leaps off the table and skitters to Mollymauk. He sits on the bed, and as their eyes lock, Bren snaps his fingers, and the cat vanishes. Red eyes quickly shift to him as he snaps again and Frumpkin reappears on the table.

Mollymauk lights up. "That's pretty cool. Does he do anything else?"

Bren taps the tale, wondering if he should try now. "I haven't attempted yet, but I suppose now is good." He closes his eyes and shifts his vision to Frumpkin.

Mollymauk watches as the feline's eyes shimmer a bright blue. The cat jumps off the table again and leaps into his lap, sitting down and looking up. He's about to touch the cat when he hears Bren speak.

"I can see and hear you through him, but in my body, I am blind and deaf. Though, I cannot speak through him."

Bren watches his view shift as Frumpkin is lifted, now looking down at the tiefling. "So you can see me right now?"

"I can."

Another knock at the door surprises both of them. Bren immediately shifts out of Frumpkins view, feeling a little dizzy as his vision returns. He glances at the door, seeing neither had bothered to close it. Fjord stands there, holding a tray of food.

"Hey, saw you vanish up here and thought to bring some food up. Caleb, evenin'." Fjord gives him a slight nod of the head as he walks in.

Behind him, another tiefling appears the blue one. She looks at him and smiles. "Hi, you must be Caleb! I'm Jester!" the energy she exudes is a lot to take in. "Do you like sweets? I have some pastries to share if you do!" She starts ruffling through a very shocking, pink bag.

"Everyone disappeared," the dark-skinned woman followed. Their eyes met, but she didn't seem disappointed or impressed. "Hey, I'm Beauregard. Call me Beau." Her eyes darted to Mollymauk. "Why do you have a cat?"

"Because I can get one and you can't," the tiefling smirked.

"Fuck you, Molly."

"Not my type, dear."

The light was suddenly blocked as the tall woman appeared. "Why did everyone leave?" She nodded toward Bren. "Hi, I'm Yasha." She pushed passed Fjord, sitting next to Molly, who began showing her Frumpkin. She smiled a little.

"Jester! Jester!" A screechy voice cut through. The goblin slipped through everyone with ease, catching Jester's dress. Bren met her eyes, and she looked him over. "Hi... I-I'm Nott."

" _Hallo_ , Nott," he answered.

"Oh, well isn't this just nice," A gravelly voice pulled his attention away. The firbolg with the vibrant hair came in. "Hello there, Mr. Caleb. Wonderful night. Would you like some tea? I brew it myself." The firbolg shuffles over, taking the seat across from him.

Jester pulls out some pastries, that may or may not be bricks by now. Nott takes a swig of her flask, offering it to Bren. Fjord passes out some food. Beau and Molly start a game of cards on the bed, which may or may not end in a fight. Yasha sits against the bed with Frumpkin, her greatsword sitting by the wall.

The room is by no means big. Though, they somehow managed to fit all seven of themselves inside. Some of their interactions make Bren smile a little. They seem like a family of misfits. Even if they shouldn't work together, they do. It's interesting.

By the time Bren notices it's a little late. He thinks;  _when the hell did they all get in here?_


	7. Combined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have another chapter to start your Monday off right.

The early, morning dawn brought the whispers of a threatening winter in the wind. The clouds were a muddled grey, refusing to make way for the sun. It was going to be a cold day. Luckily, the snow or rain hadn't begun.

Ikithon's eyes remained unsettled as he looked on at the reconstruction. All the charred and crumbled stone was removed the morning after the explosion. The entire top portion had collapsed to the grounds. Luckily, that was the extent of the damage. Some parts of the roofing were damaged around, but nothing significant. It could've been worse.

The report he received only told him what he already knew himself. An explosion occurred roughly after sunset while the tower was empty. The explosion itself was empowered by gunpowder, which had been taken from storage. Those standing guard had left their post for but a few minutes, but it was enough. Those guards were questioned until exhaustion. After, they were let go, but never will they return.

It would mean one thing if this were an attack by an outside force. It would be as simple as blaming the Xhorhasians, but that doesn't seem accurate. It was random and destroyed only one tower, not the main building. What's more, it was where Bren stayed and studied. Bren: who recently had been acting odd.

Oremid had said he'd corrected the problem, that Bren was... swayed. Though, seeing the destruction, it doesn't add up. If anything, Bren had managed to fool the Archmage. That is a dangerous thing. If Bren can lie in a way that Oremid cannot see, it means he's a silver tongue. He was always the best at interrogations. His words were often more than enough. Not only does that pose a problem, but he has his mind. He has their secrets. Not all secrets were given to Bren, but enough to damn them.

It's been days, but there's been nothing of Bren. No magic can track him. It's infuriating. There's no other option than Bren being responsible. He must have something protecting him.

There have been searches throughout the city, but nothing's come up. He's seemingly left without a trace. It's impressive, but oh, so dangerous. He's a dangerous mind to be free. It would be nice to return him to his tamed state, but it may not be possible. It's a shame when something still useful needs to be discarded.

"Ikithon, how goes the progress?" the old man follows the voice to find the leader of the Assembly. The man in blue robes held the air of authority the moment he stepped forward. His white hair fell in neat strands, swaying ever so slightly in the wind.

"Well-enough, De'leth. It will be done by the end of the week. With luck, before the rain," Ikithon answered, turning back to the tower.

"No sign of Ermendrud?"

"Regrettably, no."

De'leth sighed. "I've had the guard on high alert, but whispers of a mishap of storage issues have spread. It led to an accidental explosion. Some will question, but we only need enough to believe. It's best that if it was an attack from Bren, it never gets out. We cannot appear incompetent."

"I agree. Unnecessary hysteria is best avoided. I've yet to say anything to the two who came with Bren."

"Don't. It'll only hinder their work. They'll find out when they come back."

Ikithon nodded. "No use in losing all three."

"Such a shame," De'leth shook his head. "Bren was such a promising man. With just a little more time, he could've become something more."

"Yes, he could have."

___________________________________

Bren sat outside the inn, watching as the sun was slowly cresting. The sky held several clouds, but there was enough of a break to see the rays and feel something of warmth. Though, thunder to the east was beginning to sound closer. It would be upon the city soon enough.

His room had been overtaken by several people last night. They drunk themselves into a stupor, passing out where they were. Only Jester and Caduceus remained. They hadn't taken a drink, settling on tea. It was lovely tea, though it was strange to be made of the dead. They returned to their rooms, knowing his room was cramped as it was.

It took time, but Bren managed to find sleep. Be it because of his exhaustion or the proximity of the group, his rest was fine. There were no nightmares, no dreams, only black. He'd almost forgotten how that felt.

"Good morning, Mr. Caleb," he turned to find the firbolg stepping out of the inn, a familiar cup of tea in his hand. "Early riser? I, myself, like to watch the rising sun."

"I have an internal clock that is never wrong. It's been long programmed to wake me at this time."

"That's a rare skill to have. It must come in handy," Caduceus stood against the other wall, seeming to keep space between them. Bren wasn't sure if he was being considerate or being cautious.

Caduceus himself seems rather kind, but there's something about the way the being stares into Bren that he finds... invading. It's the same the way Bren would read prisoners, looking to see their ticks. It seems dangerous to be alone with this giant. A discerning eye can always break a facade.

"Hey-oh-ey!" a perky, accented voice almost made Bren jump. The inn door slammed open as Jester appeared. She had renewed energy. "Morning Caduceus!" her eyes shifted to Bren. "Good morning, Caleb! Did you have fun last night?"

Bren took a drink of his coffee, looking away from her. "Ah, _ja_ , Jester. It was nice, unexpected, but nice." He couldn't stop the slight quirk of his lips.

"Sorry for barging in," Caduceus suddenly interjected. "It must've been a lot to take in at once."

"It's all right, _Herr_ Clay. I should've expected something like that would happen. Where one goes, the others follow." Bren stands, dusting himself off. "I think breakfast is in order."

"You can eat with us, right Caduceus?" Jester asked as she grabbed the firbolg's arm.

Caduceus smiled lazily. "That'd be great. Mr. Caleb?"

There was no way Bren was getting out of this. "That's fine."

One by one the rest of the group began to descend the stairs, sitting around the table the three before had acquired. None seemed to mind Bren sitting amongst them. Bren took it as a small token of kindness and did his best to stay clear of their conversations. If anything urgent came up, he's sure they'd tell him to leave.

It was relatively a beautiful morning, until a hand slapped his shoulder, bring him out of his book. When he looked up, he found Fjord sitting back in his seat after reaching across the table to him.

"Deep reader, huh? Kind of need you here for this question. Jes?" Fjord looked over to the blue tiefling.

"Caleb," she began, grabbing one of his hands. "How would you like to see Nicodranas?"

The question felt oddly placed. Had they been talking about that all this time, or was it something that just popped up? She saw his confusion.

"Well, you see I'm from Nicodranas, and I was going to see my mom. Have you heard of the Ruby of the Sea?"

The name rang a bell as a consort in on the coast. A woman of great beauty and mind as some would whisper about.

"She is your mother?" he asked, confused and a little worried.

"Yeah! We were going to see her and get out of the Empire for a while since everything with the war has been getting worse. Fjord said you'd never been out of the Empire."

Bren closed his book, feel uncomfortable with all the eyes on him. "Thank you for asking, but isn't it odd to ask a stranger you've known for a short period of time?"

"We all have our reservations," Beauregard cut in. "but I think we got a good read on people. Besides, if you tried anything," she motioned to the table. "you're outnumbered."

"I see your point, Beauregard," Bren admitted. "When are you all planning to leave?"

We'll be leavin' by mid-afternoon," Fjord chimed in. "If you want to think about it, you've got time."

Bren stood from his seat. "Then I will do just that. Excuse me."

They all watched him leave, before turning their attention back to themselves. "I hope he comes," Jester hummed.

"It would do him some good to get out," Molly added.

Hopefully, we didn't scare him off," Caduceus said as he began gathering the plates. "He seems timid."

Bren returned to his room, finding it empty. He closed the door and locked it, making a mental note not to let anyone in again. He sat on the bed, taking a breath.

They wanted him to travel with their group. It's not a good idea to be with such colorful people. They attract attention. There's a higher risk of someone recognizing him should they wander too close to certain places. If he could steer them a certain way, it would be ideal, but with so many personalities, that seems complicated.

No, he should stay alone. He should continue his search on what he plans to do. Bren shakes his head. _You fool! What are you planning to do alone? Your funds are low. You broke down the other night. You were attacked on the way to this city. Anyone with good aim can cut you down._

His thoughts attacked him with precision. It was easy to break himself down. He already knew where the weak points were. A single thought was enough to make him shake.

Maybe they could protect him. Perhaps he could use them as a shield. Why look at the human when you can stare at the tieflings, the half-orc, the firbolg, even the goblin. It could work, but he can't get too close. Attachment is a weakness. It was the first thing he was taught.

He could hear Ikithon's voice telling him, the voice echoing; _Keep it for its uses, but discard it should it become a problem_. If only he could cut the man from his mind entirely. Ignorance is a bliss he'll never receive.

Nicodranas is further south. The distance would be ideal. Depending on how long they're staying, it could be enough to for the heat to cool down. Maybe he could stop worrying for a short time.

Bren calls Frumpkin to him. The feline stretches as it plops onto the bed. He nuzzles against Bren's side, purring. Mindlessly the man runs his fingers along with the fur. "I got myself in some deep shit. If anyone from the Assembly finds me, my goose is cooked." The cat meows and finds a comfortable place in Bren's lap to lie down. A small smile comes to Bren. "I guess they should know my answer.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a thin, copper wire. As he twists it around his fingers, he raises it to his lips, aiming to where he knew the table would be. "Ah, Jester, this is Br-Caleb. I've decided to go," he said hurriedly.

There are a few moments of silence before: _"Oh my gosh! Caleb! You can cast messages too?! That so-"_ Her voice cuts off with the limit of the spell, but her voice rings in his head still.

If anything, it won't be a boring journey.


	8. Fireside Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's curious about the new wizard they adopted.

The rattle of the wagon bothered Bren as he went over his spells, but kept his complaint to himself. He shouldn't whine when they offered to give him a ride. Jester and Nott were talking about something in Jester's journal. Caduceus and Beau sat at the front, keeping watch. Fjord and Molly were quietly chatting away. Yash walked along the side of the cart, the third set of eyes watching the surrounding area.

Frumpkin woke for a moment and stretched, before falling back to sleep in the same spot. Bren scratched his neck before closing his book. He's gone over them multiple times now. He's prepared enough. Burning holes into the pages with do nothing.

It's been almost a week of travel, and another least few days remained at least. Their pace is a bit slower than average, but they don't seem to be in a rush. During the current travel, Bren's met a few interesting people.

A half-elf by the name of Bryce welcomed them in Alfield. Their group had saved the town from a gnoll attack. From the reconstruction being done, it must've been quite a battle.

In the next town, Trostenwald, he learned it was where they all met, except for Caduceus. A circus Mollymauk and Yasha worked with had been the event to bring them together, even if a toad fiend had nearly caused them to be imprisoned. There wasn't a "welcoming" feeling from that town.

"Um... Caleb?" Jester moved a bit closer to Bren, but he didn't answer. "Caleb? Hello? Caaaleebb!"

Bren jumped at the name. For a second, he'd almost forgotten about the ruse. Turning his head back, he found the blue tiefling smiling.

"Something I can help you with, Jester?"

"What are you reading? Is it a good book? Can I see it?"

Before she could grab it, Bren tucked it back into the holster. " _Nein_ , it is my spellbook."

" _Nein_!" Jester mimicked. "What does that mean? Is it a bad word?"

Bren shook his head. "It means 'no.'

"Do you have a lot of spells? Can you make like lighting come from the sky, or maybe a meteor hit the ground?!"

It was amusing to Bren. The way Jester was starry-eyed at the possibilities. He's seen a little of what Jester could do. Bother she and Caduceus are followers of some deity. Their magic is touched by divination. It'd be interesting to know who they worship.

They came upon a checkpoint. Crownsguard had halted passage along the road, questioning those entering and leaving. Their carts were searched, and occasionally the person was as well. It was slow and irritable waiting as the line slowly moved forward.

When they were searched, it took a little longer. Their group was very different. All but Beau and Bren were eyed suspiciously. Fjord and Caduceus did an excellent job of talking. Between Fjord's charisma and Caduceus' calmness, they were able to pass. Nott had disguised herself then as a halfling woman. A goblin wouldn't have made their case better.

Another few hours of travel and they've reached the center of the Wuyun Gorge. It's quiet, save for the birds diving to their nests nestled into parts of rock formations. The mountains on either side loom over, making the area seem incased.

The sun was already beginning to set. In another hour or two, it would be gone. Bren glanced around, finding the stillness to be worrying. He looked at the others. They were tired, ready to find a place to rest for the night.

Caduceus moved the wagon off to the side, making a reasonable distance from the path. The rest began to hop out, setting up their camp. Bren stayed on the cart for a moment. Staring out to the area around them, he was watching for movement, but only the trees sways and rocks met his eyes.

Choosing to shake off his nervousness, Bren pulls out his silver wire, rubbing it between his fingers.

"If I may, can I ask what that wire is?" Fjord approached him as he finished lighting the fire. "I noticed you setting it every night."

"It is used as an alarm. When I finish casting the spell, if anyone or anything crosses this wire," Bren taps his head. "I will feel it here and wake."

"That's pretty useful. I haven't seen a lot of different magic. I have a bit of my own, but yours is different. How did you come across it?"

"It came to me when I was a young boy. Once I realized, I did everything I could to increase my knowledge."

"I can imagine your parents were happy for you."

"They were thrilled," Bren smiled as an ache passed through his chest. "If you'll excuse me, I should set it before the night is upon us."

"Caleb?" Bren almost didn't react to the name, but he stopped and looked at the half-orc. "I also noticed you've been sleepin' away from us. I'm sure you've got your boundaries, but it would be safer to be close."

"Just make sure to keep a distance from Fjord," Nott called from around the fire. "He gets wet dreams." The rest of the group snickered.

Fjord pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's... not that kinda dream."

Bren got the feeling there was more to it, but without the full story, it mostly seemed like an innuendo but made him chuckle all the same.

____________________________________

Sleep still pulled at his eyes but did his best to stay awake. He'd offered to take the last watch with Nott. The rest slept soundly around them. The sky was still dark, but it was giving way to a red hue, signs of dawn. Bren kept his eyes mostly to his book but occasionally looked up to scan the are. Nott did the same as she cleaned her crossbow.

It had been relative silence between them. She kept to her side, and he kept to his. From Bren's perspective, she seemed skittish, shy. She would talk to him, but it was for a short time before she moves to Jester or Beau. She teases Fjord relentlessly, but he returns the favor. She likes to joke with Mollymauk and sometimes rides on Yasha's shoulders. She's relaxed around Caduceus, but everyone's relaxed around him.

"Caleb?" her voice was quiet, barely audible if it weren't silent. "Can I ask about your magic?"

It seems his magic is everyone's favorite topic as of late with this group. Bren looks at her, and she takes it as an answer to continue.

"Can you make your appearance change like me?"

"Yes, I can."

"Can you... do it to where it's more..." her voice fell short before finishing, but Bren got the gist of it.

"Permanent?" he finished. She only nodded her head, staring at the now dead fire. "May I ask why?" The goblin seemed to shrink into herself. It was clear there was something painful there. It was interesting, but Bren chose to let it pass. "In time I may have something like that, but not now."

She sighed and looked defeated. It was a familiar expression. It reminded Bren of when something would slip passed him by chance, or he'd failed to extort the necessary information from a prisoner. That feeling of failure that loomed over the head.

  
"N-normally, when people see a goblin their first reaction is to scream or beat me. Looking like this it's... it's not right. I feel like I'm trapped in this... disgusting body," she looked at her hands, then her arms then touched her face. "I was meant to be something else. Do you ever feel like you're not right? Like something was forced upon you?"

Bren couldn't help the slight hysterical chuckle that left him. " _Ja_ , something like that."

At that moment, Nott smiled a little, feeling understood, even just a little by this stranger.


	9. initiative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bren slips back into some old ways.

It was the crack of dawn when they set out. The rising sun was barely beginning to crest the side of the gorge. Caduceus had been taking the reigns of watching the road. The rest sat in the wagon, minding their own business. It was then that Caduceus suddenly began shouting in a different language to the left.

The rest of the group became alert, gazing in the same direction. As the wagon moved, further along, they saw what two-headed giants standing near 15ft tall was. The two heads sharing the shoulders were talking with each other, or more like bickering. Caduceus continued to speak in their language as the cart moved further and further away, but a second ettin appeared on the other side, looking to yell at the other.

All the while, the firbolg continued to talk, a calm voice that kept to make sure they weren't bothered until the second giant began to lift a boulder. Bren immediately cast a spell at it. The giant looked to Bren, and its eyes went in shock and horror. The boulder dropped in place, and the ettin began fleeing.

"We've roughly 30 seconds before that first giant gains control back," Bren said as he looked to the group. "Beaureguard, Yasha, and Nott, you'll leave the cart. Nott, take a position where you can fire from the shadows. Yasha, you'll be close and personal, same with you Beauregard. Can any of you slow its movements?"

"Yeah, I can stun it when I land a hit," Beauregard smirked, stretching herself. "Shouldn't be too hard."

"Jester, watch the healing and do anything in between if you can."

"I can do that, Caleb!"

"Fjord and Molly, you'll be watching over Caduceus as he moves the cart."

Everyone began moving. "What about you, Caleb?" Fjord asked as he summoned a blade from nowhere. It piqued Bren's interest, but that was for another time.

"Don't worry about me," he said as he stepped off the cart as well. Beau darts off for the ettin as the spell wears off just in time. Before she's out of range, Bren casts a spell in the area around her. In a flash, she doubles in size, standing nearly as tall as the giant. She stops to realize and looks back at Bren. She nods at him and continues, shaking the ground as she does. Yasha follows after, her rage set in as she pulls her sword from her back.

A flurry of punches hit the ettin. Yasha cuts into what she can. Jester sends a bolt of lightning, striking it in the thigh and it howls in pain. Bolts shoot into the chest and shoulder as Nott fires. They seem to be all right for now. As Bren looks to the other giant, A club sudden comes into his view. He erects the shield just in time to deflect, but the second swing hits him. It knocks the breath from his body, and he staggers immediately.

Purple-ish black energy crash against the giant, grabbing its attention. In a flurry of color, Mollymauk strikes against the legs. Caduceus calls for the horses to dash and the cart picks up speed.

Bren glances to the girls, watching as both Beau and Yasha take their hits, but return them just as hard. Something resembling a giant lollipop appears in the air, crashing against the giant's skull. Another bolt flies, hitting a vital vein in the neck. Moving his attention back to the one before him, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out some molasses, smearing it so and casting slow.

Quickly, the spell takes hold. The giant move slowly, unsure of what's happening. Just as he does that, a bolt of lightning comes from Caduceus crashing against the monster. The ground shakes a little as a large Beau comes running. The magic, spiritual weapon takes the last hit against the bloodied ettin, and it falls.

Suddenly a rush of air hits Bren as the club of the giant before it hits his shoulder. It knocks him to the ground. The pain doesn't feel as bad but still does some damage to him. Another blast of dark energy comes, crashing against the ettin. Mollymauk follows with another two swings, cutting deeper. It cries in pain as a bolt gets an eye.

With the hit, Bren loses his concentration, and the ettin gains its movement. Realizing the situation, it begins running, making a mad dash for the hills.

"He's getting away!" Jester cried as she came running.

Bren grabbed Mollymauk's arm and pulled himself up. Using the tiefling to right himself, Bren extends his arm, and a streak leaves him. It glides through the air, traveling the distance. It connects with the giant, and it's quiet, then a cacophonous explosion erupts the giant in flames, leaving the corpse aflame.

"Holy shit, Caleb," Fjord said as he approached him.

"That's pretty powerful," Jester added. "Caleb?"

Mollymauk looked at the human. "You all right there?" He snaps his fingers in front of Bren's face. "Caleb?"

_The flames dance in their victory. The scent of burning flesh and wood is strong. The wall collapsed, bringing the roof down. The garden his mother planted is nothing but ash. His father's small shed attached to the house is all but rubble. He can feel the tears falling, but the regret is slowly fading. It's being covered and buried. In a moment, he's wondering why he's crying. Why was he here when he should be at Ikithon's? There was nothing here for him._

A sting of pain brings him back. It comes again. A purple hand slaps his cheek. Bren sees it happening again and catches it this time. He grips the wrist and turns to the tiefling. With cold eyes, he glares at the man. Why was he hitting him? Mollymauk looked taken aback by his reaction. There was the smallest trace of fear.

Bren realizes what he's doing and drops his hold. "S-sorry about that," his voice sounds small and tired now. His head is aching, much like his body. "I... I did not mean to..."

"That's all right. Let's get you healed up, huh? You took a beating," Molly returned, pulling more of the wizard's weight onto him. "You can sit in the cart."

He follows Mollymauk to the cart and sits. Caduceus is tending to Beau and Yasha. Beau was overly excited about having been so tall. Yasha was wiping her blade. Nott and Fjord were coming back from picking through the ettins. Jester approached Bren, reaching out to cast her spell.

Instinctually the man pulled away. He realized how uneven his breathing was. His hands were shaking. Whether it was from the battle or the flashback, he didn't know. Jester looks worried but tries again, and Bren fights himself to let her. His wounds begin to close and feels physically better.

"I am... sorry for telling you all what to do. I am sure you understand your abilities. I didn't need to be commanding you."

"That went a lot better than most of our encounters," Fjord called as he climbed back into the car. "Quite a tactful mind, you got there."

"Yeah, and the way you made me bigger was so awesome!" Beauregard chimed in.

Caduceus looked Bren over before casting another spell on him. "A commanding voice isn't always bad. You did well, Mr. Caleb."

"I.. didn't do much."

"You're modest, my dear," Mollymauk climbed back into the cart but not before wacking Caleb with his tail. "Take the compliment. They're rare and fleeting."

Yasha only patted his shoulder with something resembling a smile before joining the others as did Jester and Nott.

Bren pulled himself onto the cart entirely as it began to move. He took the option of lying down, his eyes facing the passing view.

It appears old habits die hard. It's not easy living as someone else when the other man isn't dead.


	10. The Ruby and the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the Ruby and Bren learns something of Fjord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Managed to finally finish this chapter since I have 4 days off work! ^_^ Hope you guys have a good day!

Since the battle with the ettins, the others have been careful around Bren, more than they should. His 'episode' seemed to put them off. Jester isn't bugging him as much, and Beau doesn't make any smart remarks. Caduceus and Fjord keep their eyes on the road, and Yasha and Molly talk amongst themselves. Nott's the one that speaks to him, trying to keep his mind occupied by just asking simple questions or asking about things he knows.

In that time, he teaches the goblin a spell. Much like his own, she can cast a message. It takes her a while, but she catches on. The moment Bren hears her voice slip into his mind, there's a familiar feeling of achievement. Even she smiles with bright eyes as she holds the copper wire.

The city appears on the horizon after a few more days of travel, but they stray from the road toward a beach. There, everyone takes a breather. Fjord immediately dives into the water, armor, and clothing still on, but he moves like nothing is weighing him down. Jester puts her feet into a shallow area, smiling. Nott ignores the water with full intent and takes to shooting seagulls, getting into quite the battle with a crab. Molly strips and follows after Fjord. Caduceus takes to some moss that's been growing on some rocks nearby. Yasha stays with the cart, silently watching. Beau perches herself on a foundation that sits in the water and sits for a few minutes, before groaning and falling into the water.

Bren walks to the water and stares at the vastness. It seems to continue forever. This is the first time he's seen such a sight, and he can't help but feel fascinated and intimidated. It makes him realize how small he is.

"Caleb, get in!" Fjord called from several feet into the water.

"Water feels just right," Molly sighs contently, happily floating on his back.

"Maybe another day," he answered, turning on his heel and returning to the cart where Yasha was.

She gave him a glance over her shoulder. He didn't mean to, but he caught her eye, and they stayed staring at each other for a moment. The woman easily towered over him. Her strength outmatched him vastly. It wouldn't take much for her to kill him. Someone of her prowess would do well on the frontline.

"How are you holding up?" she asked a little awkwardly. She seemed unsure of what to say. Bren couldn't help but understand. "Everything... all right?"

"I'm breathing, so there's that," Bren returned, calling Frumpkin to his lap. "It's not the first battle I've had. The pain is something I'm used to."

The pale woman looked him over. He didn't pay the prodding stare any mind, keeping his hands busy in the feline's fur. There was somewhat an understanding she felt, but also a caution. Bren offered a small smile but felt little emotion in it.

"Breathing's a good sign, Mr. Caleb," Caduceus' gravely voice gained both their attention. "It means another time to be had."

"Yasha! Come over, dear!" Molly's voice waved her over from the water where he was beginning to rise. She left without a word.

Caduceus waited until she was out of earshot to continue. "I don't mean to pry, but do we lost you for a minute after the battle. Is there something haunting you? I can't believe you haven't seen death before."

"Death isn't what bothers me, _mein Freund_. I'm far too familiar with it to be afraid."

"I would like to know the reason for losing yourself, to help. Maybe I can offer a healing hand or a willing ear."

Bren couldn't help but feel his body stiffen if only a little. The firbolg's perceptiveness seemed to settle with that as an answer.

"I press, but I'm always here."

"I'll remember that."

_________________________________

Their mismatched group easily caught curious eyes as they traveled through the city. Jester had taken to a disguise, revealing she'd done something to embarrass someone of power. Her presence would possibly cause problems.

Jester leads them into the Opal Districts of the city. It was the oldest one, leading to old architecture that stood the test of time. The building itself wasn't hard to miss. The towering, thin structure mirrored the ocean. Gold-plated window frames shimmered as the sunlight dance across them. Stained glass windows gave way to a kaleidoscope of colors, reminding Bren of a certain tiefling.

Two Zolezzo guards stood on either side of the door, watching as patrons entered and left. Their cart was handed over to be taken care of as they entered. Caduceus changed his appearance, as did Nott. Bren thought about it and did the same, making himself looked a little more put together. Traveling for a couple of weeks doesn't give a chance for proper care, and cantrips can only do so much.

The inside is rather beautiful and bustling with energy. Round tables take the center of the floor and a bar on either side of the room sit. Servants make their way across the floor, making sure the guests are happy. Bren looks up to the ceiling, finding four beautifully silver chandeliers hanging, the candles giving off the majority of the light. White, gold, and silver adorn the room, along with the similar blue of the exterior.

Their group manages to snag a table close to the staircase. Jester, full of energy, runs upstairs where a minotaur stops her. They talk for a moment before the beast steps aside to let her pass.

Suddenly a tankard slammed on the table before Bren. Molly slid in beside him. "While your brooding expression isn't bad, this is much too nice of a place for such a face. Drink! From what Jester says, we're about to see the jewel of the coast."

Just as Bren was about to resign himself to drink, the room fell still as the lights dimmed. All eyes turned to the staircase, waiting for the doors to open. Jester reappeared at the table, waiting.

The door open, and a woman of red skin appears. Her dark horns curl in a way that creates something of a crown, adorned with baubles that jingle with every move of her head. Her white gown shimmers in what light there is and flows as she descends the stairs, a soft a graceful voice beginning to leave her lips. It's ethereal; it's enchanting. Not a single eye can wander away from her presence as she slowly walks.

Bren can feel tears stinging at his eyes, wanting to fall, but he fights them back. He takes a glance at his companions, finding that they've already let their tears fall. She's a beautiful woman and understands why so many are enamored with her.

After making a pass by the tables, the song begins to slow as she returns up to the stairs. When she reaches the landing, the song ends, and she takes a bow, returning to her chamber. A standing ovation comes next, as does many people flooding to ask for her time this evening.

Jester stands, beckoning for everyone to follow her. As they all stand, Bren is reluctant, but Jester pulls him along easily enough. It's strange how she trusts someone to meet her mother that she's only known for a few weeks.

They gather into the chamber where the Ruby is now sitting on a lounging sofa in a silk robe. Her hair is braided back, and the jewelry is gone, but she's isn't any less beautiful. She greets them all one by one, lingering on Fjord a little with a knowing smile. When she looks over Bren, there's a curiosity in her, but she doesn't say anything other than a greeting. Caduceus surprises her by his purity, and it's easy to tell she wouldn't mind tainting it. When she and Molly come face to face, she's delighted, looking over his skin, eyes, hair, tattoos. They have their little moment. If left here, they'd be fast friends, but may be turned to rivals, seeing how Mollymauk is in his ways.

They share stories of their adventures, which Bren hears for the first time. Marion, as she was asked to be called, takes it all with interest, fascinated by the tales her daughter's friends tell. The woman gives calm and motherly energy to the room, which makes it easy to speak. Bren, however, remains quiet, watching it all. He takes bits of information from each story, creating a skillset of each of them. Roughly he knows the extent of their abilities.

It's dawning on him now, but he shouldn't stay with these people for long. From their stories, it's easy to tell that they get into trouble quite often, more their fault than not. They attract attention and cause problems. It's best to part ways before it gets hard.

The last story is of a man by the name of the Gentlemen in Zadash. A man of blue skin who appears to sweat constantly. Marion makes a connection to who was Jester's father. The rest of her friends suddenly realize and seemed to lose their sense for a while. Jester casts messages but doesn't seem to get the answer she was expecting. Marion quickly deflects the heavy mood by changing topics. Her daughter follows the mood and her expression changes, but there's a crack in her mask.

Marion offers rooms for the night, but can only spare four. The girls take one while Caduceus decides to room alone, needing to speak with his goddess. Molly does the same but is communing with another sort of act. Which leaves Bren and Fjord. Bren was more than happy to find somewhere else to stay, but they all insisted, but Frumpkin would need to stay a distance from Fjord. Even allergies get the orc-folk.

__________________________________

The group had decided to have their meal together downstairs, but Bren opted for lone dining in the room. It gave him a chance to look over his spells and some time away from their personalities. Even at the Academy, Bren didn't socialize unless it was necessary. Astrid and Wulf always gave him shit about it, but they understood. Sometimes, he just needed to separate himself for a while to recharge.

What are they doing now? Where are they? Do they know what happened? If they're called back, will they be on the hunt for him? Will they think him a traitor? Will he become an assignment, a target?

Bren took a drink of the red wine, tasting the strong body. It was much better than the shitty drinks most of the bars have had. He doesn't regret leaving, but he does miss the finer things. Who knew good wine was hard to come by?

Just as he poured himself another glass, a knock at the door came. It could've been anyone, but doubts either, other than Caduceus, would knock. He opens the door, finding the half-orc. He looks a little drunk but seems to be handling the alcohol well enough.

"Didn't want to barge in unannounced," the southern drawl filled the silence. "Enjoy your dinner?" Fjord walked in, beginning to take off each piece of armor.

" _Ja_ , it was nice. You?" Bren walked back to the table, looking back down at the book opened before him.

"Pretty nice. Got into a drinking contest with Nott," the green man chuckled. "Needless to say, I lost. The girl can hold her liquor. Thankfully, Cad and Molly managed to sober me up a little." Bren gave a sound of an acknowledgment as he turned the page. "Would've been nice if you'd join us. Maybe next time."

"You're all... loud," it came out more of a question than a statement, but Fjord seemed to understand the intent and nodded. "As social as I can be, I've never enjoyed it. I'm sorry for not joining, but I needed time alone."

Fjord began unlacing his boots, pulling them off. "I can relate. A quiet moment is needed, sometimes." The half-orc gets into bed a little unsteadily. "I'm gonna hit the hay. I don't mind the light, so don't worry about it. G'night."

"Good night, Fjord."

Bren pulls a rag from his back and drapes it over the globule of light. It dims the glow, but still enough to read. His eyes looked back to the man in bed, however. He listened as the breaths came and went.

Roughly around 2:33, Fjord suddenly leans over the bed, throwing up. It pulls Bren away from gazing out the window. He runs his hand through his familiar's fur, who wakes to watch as well. With a simple motion of his wrist, the candles in the room light. Fjord is still coughing, but the vomit stopped.

"Not again," Fjord sighs, but the voice is different. It's lighter more refined and polished. It isn't the rough and casual drawl.

"Are you all right, Fjord?" Bren asks as he sends Frumpkin away and approaches the bed. He sees what appears to be water coating his side of the floor, but the scent is brine as if it were sea water.

He startles at the appearance of Bren. "Ah, oh-yeah. I'm okay."

"Is there a reason for coughing up salt water? This isn't normal; I'm sure." It dawns on Bren. "Is this a 'wet dream' the others ribbed you on?"

"Maybe I just had too much to drink," Fjord tried to play it off, but it was easy to read the lie. It was so simple.

"If you don't wish to tell, I won't pry." With a simple cantrip, the water evaporated into the air, and the carpet dried.

Bren walked back to the chair, calling the cat back to him. When he looked up, he found Fjord's gaze on him. He held the stare as the half-orc seemed to search him for something, anything. The golden eyes seemed desperate but unsure.

"You've... seen my sword, right?" Fjord summons the blade. It drips water; barnacles cover the hilt and part of the blade. "It came to me when I washed up shore one day. I was a sailor before this came to me. I worked on a ship called the Tide's Breath."

Slowly, Fjord began to divulge the story of how a former friend named Sabian sabotaged the ship. An explosion had rocked the ship. He had been near the source and was sure to have died, but woke on the shore with the blade a few feet away. That's when his magic had manifested within him and the beginning of his dreams.

His dreams were few, a distance of weeks at a time between them. Each time there would be darkness as he was suspended within the depths of water, and a voice would boom in his head. A giant golden eye would appear, much larger than himself and simple stare as if waiting. When the dream ends, he wakes and coughs the water he assumes was around him.

In their travels, the group had come upon an orb that drew Fjord closer. Against his will, he had absorbed this orb, where it now sits in the hilt of the sword. He doesn't know the purpose but is hoping to find someone who does.

Bren means to ask about his voice, whether it is a slip or something real, but decides against it. He's just revealed something important to a stranger like him. It goes against the instincts he learned of gathering information. Usually, he'd continue to drill until the other would break. He pushes it out of his mind. He is not in that place anymore. He is not that person anymore. He'll keep repeating it in his mind until he decides to believe it.

They stayed like that until Fjord lost to exhaustion and fell asleep against the headboard. When he was ready, Bren got into bed and slipped into the side beside him. He listened to the half-orc's breathing for a time, his mind refusing to rest. It takes another hour, but his eyes finally close.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been stuck with a writer's block that I'm forcing myself out of. I will get through this! Have a good day/night. <3

Faint rays of sunlight manage to crest into the room as the sun begins to rise. Bren is woken by his mind and finds the room still and quiet. Fjord still sleeps next to him, the unsubtle snores of the half-orc growing and dying. Bren notices how Fjord had curled as if trying to comfort himself. He couldn't help but feel sad when he understood.

After getting dressed, Bren went downstairs and ordered his breakfast. There were people about, but it wasn't full like last night. Lucky for him, he grabbed a corner table for himself. A nice peaceful breakfast is exactly what he needed.

It'd been almost four weeks since leaving Rexxentrum. It's a feat in itself. He didn't think he'd make it four days. Ikithon should be searching for him now. Scouts will be looking through every countryside and city alike. A man like him wouldn't think Bren dead. Now, he has to assume the entire Assembly knows. He has to keep his head and his name lower.

The thought of his friends came. Astrid and Eodwulf would hear whatever story Ikithon would spin for them. If they ever cross paths again, they'll be enemies. If he could change their minds, make them see what he's realized, he would feel a little better. However, there's always the chance they know what Ikithon did and accepted it. That's a fear Bren hopes is a lie.

"Morning!" a hand suddenly slaps Bren's shoulder, equally scaring and hurting him. As he rubs the pain away, he watches as the monk sits next to him, waving down a helper.

"Don't hold back on my account," Bren answered, feeling the sting fade.

She looks back at him and makes a realization. "Oh, shit. Sorry about that." she tried to rub it, but the strength she put into it only made it worse, but Bren wasn't going to let her try again.

"Beauregard, you are quite aggressive."

"Yeah, kinda happens. Don't take it personally. I forget some people lack the constitution," she snickered, quickly taking a drink of her tankard as it's set down.

An hour passes, and the room fills a little as patrons come in from outside, or lumber out from upstairs, clearly satisfied. It seems everyone is sleeping in today. Jester must be with her mother. Fjord, from Bren's knowledge, must be exhausted from last night's events.

"Caleb?" Beau's voice calling doesn't register with Bren until he remembers. He looks in her general direction but doesn't meet her eyes. "You're a wizard, right?" He only nods. "Most wizards I know of study in Rexxentrum, at the, uh, Academy. Were you one of those?"

Bren stifles a laugh. "That place... is for the rich. It's exceedingly rare for someone of my birth to even get close to the door."

"Your birth? I guess you weren't lined with gold then?"

" _Nein_ , I am not. My family was poor, surviving on what we grew. That is until a fire burned everything." the last sentence slipped out with such ease, but it felt like his throat tightened with each syllable.

Beau seemed satisfied with that answer, unable to trace a lie, but there's a look in her eyes that seems unsure. "Got something to hide, Widogast?"

"You are a stranger, Beauregard. My trust has been betrayed before. I feel I have the right to keep what I want to myself," his words come out much harsher than he intended, but Beau doesn't seem bothered.

"I understand keeping secrets. Our group has their fair share of them. I just thought I'd know a little more about you if you're gonna stick around."

Bren stopped himself from taking a drink the moment he heard the last words. "I wasn't expecting to stay for very long. Honestly, I wasn't even expecting to travel with you lot."

"Why did you come with us then?"

"I needed a change of scenery. The coast seemed as good place as any."

She looked him over, finding his words laced with truth and lie alike. "Seems to me like you're running from something."

"Aren't we all?"

The monk settled back in her chair, his words hitting some nerve in her. She didn't say anything after that.

________________________________

Bren slipped out of the Chateau once the rest of them began to decide what to do next. It was easy enough to leave, but he's sure a certain firbolg noticed his exit and said nothing.

The mid-morning air hit him, laced with the scent of the ocean. The sun was already heating around him. It seemed like a good idea to come here, but the weather is something else. He's accustomed to heavy winters and gray skies. This heat will take time to adjust.

Nicodranas is a city he hasn't experienced in a long time. The vibrant colors, people, and food. It's not a place he ever expected to see. A month ago, he would've been contempt with living in the walls of Rexxentrum. He would've welcomed the constant sight of it every day for the rest of his life. He knew nothing else then. Now, it seems like he was missing something. He was missing life itself.

"Where is my favorite wizard escaping to?" the familiar voice of Mollymauk came behind him as an arm wrapped around his shoulders. "Wouldn't want you to get lost on your own."

"I thought you all had business to tend to."

"All work and no play gives Molly a sad day. Besides, it's tonight that we need to work. Until then, I think it's only fair to explore this beautiful city."

Bren removed the purple arm from his shoulders, shrugging him off. "Was last night not fun enough for you?"

Molly grinned wickedly. "Always a bit of fun to be had. You never know when you'll miss it."

Bren looked at Molly for a while, taking in his expression. Without replying, Bren started walking, and the tiefling followed after. Looks like he'll have a tag along after all. Whether he likes it or not.


	12. What's Said and What's Heard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept going back and forth with this chapter and I'm still not happy with it, but it probably won't get better than this. Sorry, it took so long for me to update this. 
> 
> Hope you guys have a good day/night <3

They watched as Molly and Caleb had slipped out of the tavern thanks to Caduceus' good eyes. After a little discussion, they asked Nott to trail after them as a precaution. Molly would get into no good, and they doubted Caleb had the capability to do anything about it. No one did, except maybe Yasha.

Despite Jester's mother being the main reason for coming here, there was another problem. They were in search of a Marius LePual. With Molly distracted and Nott on her own task, they could focus on their quest.

With the time, they could ask around the Restless Wharf, maybe stake out a few places. It wasn't very long until the day of the meeting. Hopefully, they'll be able to catch the man. All they want is answers.

"Hey, so, I didn't want to bring this up yesterday since we were with Jester mom and all, but isn't Caleb a little off?" Beau suddenly said as the conversation had died out. "I mean, he went all catatonic when we were fighting those giants. Dude's got some problems."

"It was a little weird, but we all have problems, Beau," Jester stated as she crossed her arms on the table. "We shouldn't judge him harshly. We haven't got to know him yet."

Fjord decided to add to this. "It's odd the way he blanked out, but it must've been somethin' he's not comfortable with. He may have been barkin' orders, but who knows how many battles he's seen. Maybe it was just so much at one time. Besides, if there is something wrong and he happens to turn on us, there's seven of us and one of him. How much damage could he do?"

"Well," Caduceus shifted in his chair. "he seems pretty powerful to me. I don't get the feeling he's bad, but there's definitely something there. He hasn't done anything to us as of now, and that counts."

Beau sighs as she deflates in her chair. "Hasn't done anything yet. I'm afraid if he does."

 

_______________________________________________________

 

The streets are lined with color. Be it flowers, paint, or decoration; it was all vibrant. Despite that, it seemed a certain tiefling was drawing more eyes. Bren wanted to shrink away from the attention, but they paid him no mind. It appeared they were ignoring him entirely.

Mollymauk was enjoying the attention. He appeared to enjoy the spotlight. If he dressed in such a way, he was clearly inviting it.

As they walk the streets, Molly flitters about, gravitating to things pretty and bright. Some invite his personality, enjoying a light conversation. Sometimes, he'd walk away with something given and times he'd walk away leaving something. Other times he's eyed with suspicion but isn't outrightly insulted. Though, the subtleness isn't any less rude.

He takes in every compliment and smile, every insult, and glare as he passes by. His attitude is of someone who doesn't care. Words or actions don't hurt him, or at least it seems that way.

It's a stark contrast to Bren. Even during his time in Rexxentrum, he didn't care for social interactions. He could put a smile on and hold a conversation, but the moment he broke away, he'd feel more tired. He worried how he was perceived. The opinion of those better could ruin his place. He learned early on to dance on broken ground.

"Where? Rexxentrum?" the voice seemed to cut through all the noise around Bren. He found the source; a Zolezzo walking passed him. "How did anyone manage that?"

Bren's legs moved on their own volition. He kept a distance, but close enough to hear. He needed to know what they were talking about, but he feared he already knew.

"How in the gods' names did someone manage that? The Assembly keeps their buildings under tight lock," one said, having to lower his voice.

"Had to be someone on the inside. Xhorhasians couldn't have gotten in there," the other replied. "May the Raven Queen give mercy on that one's death. I hear some searches lead to Zadash. Whoever it was probably escaped to another plane of existence, that's the only way to escape the Assembly's ire."

Their talk shifted to their later patrols, making Bren lose interest. He slowed his steps and fell behind before making a full stop. It was nothing more than he expected. At least his name wasn't mentioned, meaning he's somewhat safe. Though, how long before they come searching along the coast?

"Mi~ster~Caleb!" Bren's body suddenly jerked as Mollymauk slapped his hands on Bren's shoulders from behind. "Didn't think you'd get too far without me, did ya?"

"Of course not, Mister Mollymauk. I was only scouting ahead. As if I could ever leave someone as bright as you behind."

Molly chuckled. "Of course! Now, let's head down this way. I can smell something delicious."

Before they can take a step, something in the corner of Bren's eyes catches his attention. A small hooded figure was sneaking several steps behind them. When their eyes met, she froze.

"Nott?" Bren called out, getting Molly to turn his gaze in the same direction.

"Well, would you look at that. It seems someone followed along." Molly walked over and picked up the goblin, carrying her to Bren. "Now, why were you following us?"

"I-I wasn't following you. I was just... sightseeing. I was looking around at the city! That's all!"

Without even trying Bren could see through the lie. He just cocked his head to the side, waiting for the proper explanation.

She sighed, still being held by Molly. "Okay, maybe I was stealing from people. Maybe I was following you guys. Maybe I was worried because you two decided just to leave. I was just... worried you were gonna leave."

"Oh, Nott. I'm not going anywhere," Molly ruffled her hair, only getting an angry reaction.

"Not you, you damned rainbow. I was talking about Caleb." Molly immediate reaction is to drop her, but she simply lands on her feet and moves behind Bren. They glare at each other for a while.

_Why did I even get up this morning?_ Bren wonders.

Molly suddenly grabs his hand, dragging him forward. "Come along, Mister Caleb. Let's continue our stroll."

Nott skitters up, grabbing Bren's other hand, sticking her tongue out as Molly glances at her. He mimics her. Suddenly Bren feels like he has two children.

As the lunch hour came, they took to a small eatery that hadn't gotten too busy just yet — snagging a table within a nook that will shelter them from what was an impending shower. The sky had turned from the beautiful blue to a dull grey. The fresh air became dense and thick with humidity.

Bren's legs were sore from the many places Molly had dragged him. He felt more tired than he did this morning. He wanted to go back and curl on the bed. He wanted to sleep for a while.

Despite the rumors from this morning, his mind has been rather clear of it. He found himself quietly amused by Molly and Nott's interactions. Despite the sometimes hostile words, there was a bond there.

"Caleb, dear, tell me about yourself." Molly's question caught him off guard.

"Ah... what would you like to know?" Bren said carefully, wondering which questions would be asked.

"Where did you grow up? When did you start magic? How did you come this far south? You know the regular bits."

"I'm from a small town outside Rexxentrum. I came into my magic in my adolescence. I became tired of living under the suppression of the Empire, so I thought to leave."

The basic answers left Molly a little stunned. "Maybe it was my fault for not explaining fully. Could you elaborate on those answers? Give a little more detail?"

"Molly, stop interrogating him," Nott hissed as she took a drink from her flask. She turned to Bren, and her expression softened. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, Caleb. Molly is just an over-curious ass."

"Curiosity is my specialty. Besides, it's only fair that we know a little bit more about him." Molly's eyes shifted to Bren a coy smile forming with his lips. "If he's traveling with us from now on, that is."

Bren sighed. "I really don't understand why you all believe I'm staying with you. You have your objectives, and I have mine."

"So, you not going to stay?" Nott sounded sad as she spoke. Bren looked to her, seeing she had visibly deflated.

"It's.. not a good idea, Nott. I wouldn't want to intrude in your group more than I have."

"If you'd been intruding you would've known by now." Molly smiled. "Besides, we could always use a wizard."

"I will consider it heavily," Bren simply answered, happy that he managed to avoid going into detail.

For now, anyway.


	13. Overboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 3:05 a.m.   
> I finally finished this damned chapter.  
> Sorry it's taken so long guys.   
> I'm... gonna pass out.  
> Have a good day/night. <3

The tortle isn't something Bren expected to be meeting, but with their mismatched group, it's hardly a surprise. There's been enough change in a short amount of time that it'll take a bit more to stir him now. He can handle a tortle.

Orly, as the tortle introduced himself as, is a bit of a character. He's a navigator for his trade. If being a tortle wasn't enough to draw attention, the three ivory pipes protruding from his shell was a sight. The sound that was emitted wasn't kind to the ears, especially in the small tavern. Maybe in an open area, it might resonate better.

Jester and Molly were actively enchanted by the being. Their rambling would've gone on longer if Fjord hadn't pulled them back to the task at hand.

They ask about the man they're searching for, Marius LePual. With some luck, Orly knows the man, apprehensive to say anything at first, but Caduceus' manages it. The man normally hangs around the docks at night.

The plan is to go later tonight an look for the man. It sounds easy enough, but Bren is quickly learning that nothing is ever easy with this group. He can feel something going wrong is inevitable. Maybe it's just easier to embrace it.

As they return to the Chateau, Jester goes to find her mother, followed by Beau. The rest scatter about. Molly and Nott take to the bar, already getting a drink. Yasha lingers by Molly's side, but her gaze seems fixed out a window. Caduceus is talking with a waiter, asking if he could use the kitchen to brew some tea. Fjord sits at a table, his eyes looking over what looks to be a letter with a furrowed brow.

Their eyes lock by chance, and he's waving for Bren to join him. Bren is reluctant to move. In reality, he should've broken off from this group by now. He achieved the goal of putting distance between him and the Empire. He should be looking through the city for some way to make money and move on.

After a minute of deliberation, Bren moves to sit across from Fjord. The half-orc hands him the letter. Bren gives it a read, finding it a letter of agreement to a group called the Iron Shepards tasked with finding a Cloven Crystal that was to be delivered to a Marius LePual for a woman named Avantika.

Iron Shepards... that was a familiar name.

"I'm assuming the orb you... absorbed was this Cloven Crystal?" Fjord only nodded. It was intended for a woman named... Avantika. Do you know her?" he shakes his head. "And who are these Iron Shepards?"

Bren watched as a grimace crossed Fjord's face. His hands clenched together, and a shaky breath left him.

"If it's something you do not wish to speak of, it's fine."

"No, I... might help if I tell someone," Fjord runs a hand across his face and sighs heavily. "Before you had crossed our path, we had been in an area called Shady Creek Run. We were hired to do some work there. We set camp for the night. Jester, Yasha, and I decided to do a little walkabout while the others slept. The Shepards ambushed us. They used some kind of magic to make it silent around us. We didn't even stand a chance. Next thing we knew, we were bound and gagged and thrown into cages."

"Slavers."

"Yeah, bastards. During the travel to their base, Nott, Beau, and Molly tried to get us back with the help of a dwarf woman named Keg. They didn't know what they were up against and nearly lost Molly."

"Meaning you arrived at their base, _ja_? I'm sure I know what they did. You don't have to continue."

"No! You don't know, Widogast," his tone came out sharp and forced. "They... they tortured us for hours. They spent so long trying to break us..."

"Fjord, do-"

"Let me finish, damn it!" he hit his fist on the table, but the ruckus around drowned it out with ease, but Bren noticed the firbolg's gaze shifting their way. "You don't know what it's like to be beaten and broken down, to have your spirit just... crushed."

Bren's hand went to his arm, slowly dragging it over his forearm. He closes his eyes, and he's back in that room.

_A basement well-below the main living area of Ikithon's home. The door is locked, both mechanically and magically. Bren sits in the chair, waiting patiently, wondering what the new lesson was. He had yet to enter this room. Ikithon had always told him to be patient, that he needed to acquire the right tools for the lesson. Astrid and Wulf had their's earlier but seemed exhausted and went straight to bed. He'd been told not to bother them and wait here._

_There's a slight rust scent here. It's faint despite there being no airflow down here. There's nothing but walls. There's magic imbued in the walls, most likely to keep out sound and prying eyes. They're everywhere upstairs. It's just a precaution, of course. Can never be too careful._

_It's been exactly 47 minutes since he sat down, but he can hear footsteps on the stairs. The lesson will start soon. What kind would it be this time? He hopes not to let his mentor down._

_The door creaks open as Ikithon appears. He's carrying a box in his hand, ornate. He sets it on the table and opens it. The man's eyes turned to Bren, looking him over._

_'Sit still, Bren.' Ikithon approaches him, beginning to tie his arms and legs to the chair._

_'Sir, what... why am I being tied?'_

_Ikithon doesn't answer right away. He continues tying each limb down, making sure it's strong. 'It's to make sure things go as planned. Astrid and Edowulf did fine, but I expect you to excel.'_

_The praise made Bren shake off whatever apprehension that was finding its way to the surface. He patiently waited as his mentor grabbed the box and set it beside Bren. Looking in, it was crystals, a beautiful green color. What was it for?_

_While he was distracted, a sudden pain went through his arm as a sharp edge cut across his arm. Another cut was made on the other arm._

_'What... What is this?! What are you doing? It hurts!' Bren starts struggling, but can't move. The chair is set in the floor, and his limbs are bound._

_Ikithon sets the dagger down and grabs one of the crystals. He spreads the cut wider, tearing more skin. Bren screams as the tip of the crystal touches his flesh. It burns with raging heat. Despite the small size, it's unbearable with the pain. It gets pushed beneath his skin, and Ikithon grabs a needle and thread and begins to sew the cut shut._

_All the while, Bren is screaming and crying, but unable to do anything. No one will hear him down here. If this is what happened to his friends, they won't hear him. After all, he never heard them._

"Caleb?" his head turns instinctually, bringing himself back to reality. Fjord has a concerned look on his face now. How long had Bren been blanked out? Long enough for Fjord to notice.

He takes a breath, realizing he'd stopped breathing at some point. "I am... sorry you three had to endure such a thing. Torture in any form is... horrid." the bitter taste of a deep regret is heavy. How many people had he tortured himself? How many people died because of him?

"From the way you're reacting, it sounds as if you've had your own experience."

It's Bren's turn to grimace. "The north is not kind."

"Do... you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Right, sorry. I didn't mean to bring something up like that for you."

Bren calls Frumpkin. The feline appears in his lap, and Bren immediately begins to run his hands through the fur. It grounds him, keeps him from floating back to his memories. Fjord sits quietly now, keeping eyes on him.

"Ask me about it another time. Maybe I'll have something to say." Bren says quietly, but the half-orc hears.

"If I can ask, does it have anything to do with what happened in the Gorge?"

It's easy to remember what Fjord is asking about. His 'episode' where he went catatonic was hard to hide. " _Nein_ , it's not. That is its separate problem."

Bren shakes his head, sighing. "We've gotten off-topic. This letter, this woman. Avantika, what are you planning to do? I hope you aren't going to just go to her." Fjord looks away. Bren eyes him with a blank look. "Was that seriously your plan?"

"Kinda, maybe?" Bren's expression doesn't change. "Look, I don't got a lot to go on. This person wants it, so she must have some idea as to what it's for."

"And if she realizes you have it and just kills you?"

"It's inside me. She'll know I know where it is, but won't know it's inside me."

Bren sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I-I don't believe it works that way, Fjord. As we just... went over, there are ways to make someone talk. I believe taking said object to this woman is not a good idea."

"Yeah, the thought crossed my mind, but it's my only lead finding out what the hell is goin' on with me."

"Well, I voiced my view on it, but it is ultimately your choice, _mein Freund._ "

Fjord took a long drink of his tankard. Bren went back to focusing on Frumpkin, hoping this was the end of the conversation. For it being a few hours past noon, he's exhausted.

"I don't like being in charge. I'm not a leader by any means," the half-orc admits as his posture deflates. "You got an idea of what I should do?"

"I'm not sure why my word should help decide. I wasn't planning to stay."

"Oh."

Bren watched as Fjord looked upset with his words. The crease between his brows became more visible, and his grip tightened around his drink. It seems he's another that believes Bren would stay. This group should be more wary of strangers. Though, once upon a time, they would've all been strangers to each other.

If he thinks about it, they would've been all together if it were for the circus. Fate has strange humor. It gives some strangers friends, but give Bren a stab through the heart.

"I could... stay until you speak with this Marius. Depending on his information, a better plan might come through."

"That's great," the half-orc's demeanor instantly shifted. He held out his hand. "All I'm askin' is to borrow that mind of yours for a bit."

Bren clasped his hand with Fjord's. Even as he agreed, Bren couldn't shake the feeling of dread stabbing at the back of his mind, but he pushed it away. What could go wrong about meeting a single man?

  
_______________________________

 

Everything went wrong.

They'd found Marius. It was a simple plan. Make contact and ask him questions. From there they'd make a plan.

None of that happened

Marius met with someone that'd left a ship. They were speaking and were alerted of their presence with Fjord's poor stealthing tactic. Jester did her best to cover but made it worse. For all her skill in fabricating lies, Beau did poorly in her deception. It was difficult to concentrate on his spellcasting, and it fizzled.

A fight ensued. Marius wasn't compliant in fleeing with them. Instead, he ran onto the ship. The crew began firing bolts their way. They made swift work of their captain by Bren's amazement.

Bren had thrown a fireball at the ship. Partly to hopefully stop it from leaving the dock, and another out of just plain irritation. If they'd all just remained still and waited, maybe they'd have the upper hand or could've avoided this entirely.

One by one crew members fell and one by one they all scrambled onto the deck of the ship as the city's guards began approaching. There was no persuading them, and it didn't seem the best idea to surrender.

Beau managed to unfurl the sail and Yasha removed the last bit that anchored them to the dock. Fjord turned them away from the port and into the open water, which is where they are now.

Marius had little information to offer, which was what Bren assumed and feared. All this had been for nothing. They'd killed the majority of a ships' crew and gained nothing more than a name of Captain Avantika of the Squall-Eater. He was meant to acquire the sphere Fjord now holds and deliver it. He'd been at the docks to report he'd failed in acquiring it.

Down below in the quarters, they find most papers of worth burned away to ash. Only partial remains of a map were salvaged. It marked a location, presumably of where the woman's ship was.

When things had settled, Caduceus seemed... quiet, more so than usual. It was the calm and peaceful quiet the firbolg normally had about him. This was more anxiety quiet and questioning of one's intentions. Nott and Jester came around and seemed to ease his mind a little.

Fjord was pacing near the wheel of the ship. He was muttering to himself with his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched. When their eyes met by chance, Bren knew the feeling the half-orc was trying to convey without words, without getting closer. He was saying, 'I'm sorry' because of the circumstances.

It was somewhat agreed that Bren would leave once their meeting was done, but that doesn't seem possible now. Whether or not they were seen is the problem. This ship is a problem. It's not possible to leave now. He can't get away. It makes his throat tighten just a bit.

They need to talk. If Bren is staying on this ship, if he's staying with them, he needs to know the next plan of action. If Fjord plans to head towards this woman, then Bren's going to stop it. Confrontation doesn't sit well with him. If anything, it brings a heavy set of discomfort, an omen if anything else.

They should talk now. They should plan now. There was no time for rest. They needed to keep moving. Stopping will only dull them. If something doesn't work, then all they need to do is fix it.

"Caleb, dear?" Mollymauk's voice suddenly sounded so close. When Bren blinked, he found the tiefling standing before him; his head tilted to the side. There was a curiosity, but also worry, and something else... fear?

Bren settled his eyes full on him. Mollymauk was always such an oddity. What was real, and what was a show? What was a playful smile, and what was a serious gaze? A sudden gust of air comes. With the faint light of torches, Bren's eyes skim over the lavender chest, finding something strange.

It was healed but scarred. It was at least eight inches in size. Something of that size had to be wielded by someone large. It didn't seem like an average sword either. Yasha's was roughly that size, but it's highly unlikely for her to attack him. Something before they met Bren.

Something clicks in his head.

Fjord had said they'd almost lost Molly when slavers nad taken him. Was this the near-fatal wound? It never bothered him how Lorenzo did his work. Bren even learned under him for a time. Ikithon had his interest in buying new 'stock' when something caught his eye. Seeing this now, however, made his stomach churn.

"You've any idea how many emotions just crossed your face?" Mollymauk asked, taking Bren's face into his hands. "And now there's this blank look about you. It's unnerving, to be honest."

The tiefling's hands are warm, a temperature a little more than his own heat. It's a strange thought to think that this body would've gone cold if things had panned out differently. This lively and colorful being cut down and color drained as the life expelled from him.

"Does it still hurt?" Bren asks, but it sounded detached, almost as if someone else had said it.

Red eyes dart to the scar. A wariness settles in his brow. "It aches now and then, but it's fine. I'm alive."

"The one that caused it are they alive?"

"Rotting somewhere in a basement," Mollymauk smiles, but it's forced or broken. Though, it doesn't make a difference. "Him and all his damned friends."

Ikithon will have to find other means of gathering people for his experiments. It almost brings a smile to his face, knowing the old man will be troubled again. Though, will he resort to kidnapping from towns? A sting of pity hits his side. Gods watch over whoever falls in his hands.

"Caleb, are you all right? Did you hear what I asked?"

"Ah, _nein_. I'm sorry, Mollymauk. What were you saying?"

The tiefling looked him over, trying to prod and see what was beneath the surface if only for a moment, but couldn't breakthrough. He was met with a blank stare but focused attention. It was unsettling at best.

"I was asking if you wanted to help with dinner. I'm afraid Jester might add sugar to everything she sees."

Bren sighs and the cold expression melts away as if it were ice on a hot day. Mollymauk's mood lightens, his tail flicking. "Okay, _ja_ , I'll help."

Mollymauk drops his hold of Bren's face and grabs his hand, pulling him along. Bren glances back at Fjord for a moment and sees the half-orc sitting against the rail. He looks tired. Maybe they can talk about this later. For now, he'll let the tiefling avert his attention.


	14. Setting Sail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day I'll have consistency in updating.  
> Have a good day/night <3

It was just a little after three when Bren felt his hammock shake. With a sharp intake of air and his mind immediately shifting into defense, he stops when he's met with a pair of golden eyes.

"Sorry to wake you, but can we talk?" Fjord's voice is low, accentuating his drawl.

" _Ja_ ," is all Bren says as he maneuvers out of the hammock, barely managing not to fall as he follows the half-orc out of the room.

They head out onto the deck. Yasha's near the front of the boat, her eyes strangely focused on the skies, though it was clear, the moons and stars ever-present. She seemed to be waiting, but as to what was a mystery to Bren.

Fjord moved to the edge of the boat, leaning on the ledge. He lowered his head, sighing. Again, Bren was startled as someone grabbed his arm, giving it a light squeeze. Glancing, he saw it was Jester, an uncertain smile on her lips. She almost seemed to be saying 'please don't be mad at him' in her own way. After another minute of locked eye-contact, she walked away, heading down.

Bren summoned a ball of light, throwing a rag over the top to dim it. If they were talking, he'd at least like to see the half-orc's face. Fjord may have his dark vision, but Bren is all but blind.

"This it- Things weren't supposed to pan out like this," Fjord said with a forced laugh. Bren moved to his side, the light following after.

The faint hue gave just enough for Bren to see the furrowed brow, searching eyes, and clenching of the jaw. Fjord gripped the wood as if it would ground him at this moment. The lull of the waves brushing against the ship did nothing to set calm in him either. The man was on edge, uncertain, afraid. Rash decision after rash decision must have drained him. He's running on reserve, and it doesn't seem it'll last for long.

"I'm sorry, Caleb. I swear it. I'll get you back to land and make sure you're on your way safely," Fjord doesn't look at him, not even in his general direction. "I- Fuck! It was a shitty plan. I should've just stayed with ya'll. If I hadn't gone into the water..."

Bren silently waits for the man to continue.

"Even Caduceus..." Fjord lowered his head more, his shoulders hunching. "This isn't worth someone dying. I fucked up, didn't I?" Bren doesn't answer. "You know, normally, you're supposed to be yelling at me. Honestly, I'd take it over the silence."

It takes a moment for Bren to collect his thoughts. Of course, he could be angry. He could kick and scream that he's screwed if he weren't already. He could demand anything from him. He could be petty, but that'd get him nowhere.

"Fjord," his voice still felt thick from just waking. "life is made of choices that, in turn, create reactions from the world. Not every reaction will be what is expected or wanted. Yes, this moment played out drastically different than expected, but that is life, no? We live life on a gamble. We roll and see where the dice land. Sometimes it's a win and times it's a loss."

Fjord chuckles. "You're startin' to sound a bit like Caduceus. Can I take it that you're not gonna burn my hide?"

"I can say with all honesty that I've no interest in burning your hide."

He says that, but how many times did he use his flames for interrogation? How many did he kill with the intense heat that would burn away the oxygen? How many charred bodies did he create? How many faces did he erase from this earth?

"Now, as to my leaving, I'm not sure it's in my best interest to do that. There isn't really much of a place for me to go. I hadn't even thought of what to do once I got Nicodranas."

"You're more than welcome to stay. Though, I can't promise something like this won't happen again."

"I would be more surprised if it didn't."

Fjord extended his hand to Bren, waiting. Bren accepted the gesture. "We'll make it work."

_"Ja_ , we'll make it work."

_________________________

On the one hand, the silence was awkward and heavy. On the other, it was calm and relaxing, with just a bit of tension. Yasha kept her arms crossed across her chest as she walked a few steps behind Bren, almost glaring at everyone that passed. Caduceus was just happy to be on land. His resolve had been shaken during last night's event, and he seems to be doing better now. At least, that as much as Bren can read.

Caduceus mostly came to get off the boat and gather a few things he needed. Yasha mainly was here to make sure no one suspicious got too close. They had a short window to get what they needed. There was no telling if anyone bought their story, and took the forged papers Jester made. They may not be in the same harbor but they need to leave sooner, rather than later.

Jester had contacted Orlly a bit before they docked. He'd agree to come along on their voyage. At least they have a navigator to guide them. Bren always knows where north is, but it doesn't mean he knows how to navigate a ship in waters he doesn't know.

He needs just a few components more than anything. He really should've taken all he could grab before exploding the tower. There were many things he should've done, but he couldn't keep the act up very well once his mind was clear. For all his charisma, it means nothing to a trained eye.

"How are you, Caleb?" Bren almost doesn't react but glances at the firbolg before turning a corner. "Last night was a surprise."

"I am fine. There were... mishaps, but all is well. Are you well? It seemed like the whole ordeal shook you."

Caduceus chuckles, but it fades to a sigh. "Yeah, it was a bad time for me. I'm more worried it didn't bother you, though. You seem a little more steeled than I'd thought."

"Possibility of death isn't foreign to me. I always walk knowing my next step could be into my grave."

"You shouldn't think that way," Yasha's voice drew Bren's attention. "If you're always waiting to die, you'll forget to live."

"I assume words from Mollymauk?" Yasha only nods with a small smile as she continues her intense gaze at strangers.

"Yeah," her smile grows a bit more. "He might be a bit much, but he means well."

"Mr. Caleb, it seems your friend is getting away," Bren looks up as Caduceus speaks, finding Frumpkin dashing down the road.

"Ah," Bren sighs stopping. "Sorry, give me a moment." he sets a hand on the firbolg's arm and slips into his familiar's sight.

The sudden rush of objects and people moving by takes a moment to focus. The feline appears to be heading towards something specific. There was the faint sound of heavy footfalls. Frumpking came to a stop at the side of a building as a fair amount of Zolezo walked passed. They don't appear to be heading in a specific direction, but it doesn't hurt to move things along.

"I believe it would be best if we speed up our shopping. There is an increase in guard. We should gather what we need and head back."

Without a complaint, the two followed after him deeper into the city.

_________________________

Slowly the ship drifted from the docks, heading into open waters. The acquired an actual crew. Orly seems content finally having some work. He and Fjord quickly gather together to chart a course. Though the destination is obvious, it's difficult to travel through, and it doesn't allow for excellent stealth. Though, what stealth could a ship have?

The rest of the groups is scattered, busying themselves with something, or helping out some way. It'll take time to arrive. In the meantime, it'll be just more travel.

As the shore becomes less and less visible, it's a bit welcome and nerve-racking. He won't be searched for out on the sea, let alone this far south. For just a while, Bren can relax. He can enjoy the sea air. This little sense of freedom can sit for a while.

That is, until a familiar sensation enters his mind, along with a voice that stuns him.

_'Bren? Are you okay? Are you alive?' A few seconds of silence. 'Damn it... Please answer me.'_

Bren stands still, holding his breath as Astrid's voice vanishes and the sending spell fades. A firm hand slapping his shoulder breaks him from his shock. From the strength of it, it's easy to tell it's the monk. She appears in his peripheral before she's next to him.

"All right there, man? You just stopped and went pale. Look like you've seen a ghost."

"First time on a ship. I am not sure I have a tolerance for it," he lies.

She doesn't seem to believe it, but she doesn't press. Instead, she nods and stares up at the mast, watching as the sails extend with each gust of wind. "Sure, okay. You know, I like this group. They're assholes, but they didn't reject me. I don't know what shit you've got chasing you, but they wouldn't mind keeping you."

"And what of you?"

She chuckles then sighs, lowering her eyes to where Nott and Jester are trying to stack barrels. "You're sketchy. Something's up with you. I want to know, but I doubt you'll tell me. So long as you don't hurt them, then it's fine."

"Would you tell me about you if I asked?"

She shrugged. "I don't like giving things away for free."

Bren nodded. "But that isn't a no."

"No, it's not."

They stand there for another few minutes before she groans. "That didn't come out great. It just sounded like a threat. Fuck, Fjord said I should be more accepting and patient. I know you're like a sketchy bastard, but hey, our whole group is mostly sketchy bastards. Not Caduceus, though, or Jester. They're kinda the only normal ones I guess."

Bren snickers as her tough exterior breaks. "Honestly, everyone has been very kind to me. A casual threat is the least I was expecting. I was waiting for someone to hold a sword to my throat in all honesty."

She slaps his back again, and it's hard for Bren not to wince. "Well, we're stuck together, Widogast. Welcome to the team."

Before he can answer with anything, she jogs over to Jester and Nott, stopping one of the barrels from toppling over.

Left alone again, the thoughts the monk had kept at bay returned. What did Astrid know? Does she think he's dead? What about Wulf? He doubts Ikithon will waste time and resources to search if he knows better than to think Bren is gone, which he surely does. There's a war that's taking his attention. So long as he doesn't wander too close to Rexxentrum or any places of interest to the Assembly, Bren will be fine.

"Caleb, would you like some tea?" Caduceus' voice catches Bren off guard, and he nearly jumps. "You look like you could use some tea."

"Honestly, Caduceus, I feel like I'm going to vomit." It's not a lie, just not the whole truth.

He walks over to the edge of the boat and leans over and immediately vomits. "Okay there, Caleb?" Fjord yells from the helm. He vomits again as an answer.

Breathing, he feels a hand rubbing his back. Shifting his eyes to the side, he sees blue skin. "I was like this the first time I was on a boat too. Though, I was hiding on it. Mamma was really mad when they brought me back to shore. You just have to let it pass. Maybe lie down after."

He's about to answer, but another retching comes. Hopefully, this doesn't take too long. He doesn't have much of a constitution.


End file.
